Anima Ex Machina: Redux
by JX Valentine
Summary: An unlucky scientist is forced to become the host of an alien pokémon. Now equipped with a new body, strange powers, and a long list of people wanting him as a lab rat or dead, stopping an alien invasion is the least of his worries.
1. Zero: Stars

**Anima Ex Machina: Zero  
I'll bring down the stars for you.**

Twilight broke into night over Hoenn in waves: blue swallowed by red, red swallowed by black. One by one, taillow retreated to the trees for sleep, giving way to zubat fluttering across the black sky in search of prey. Street lamps and fluorescent lights flickered on in the cities, and above them, white dots began to appear gradually in the night sky.

One of these dots moved.

The meteor in question sported the size and approximate mass of a small car. That, along with the fact that its path crossed neatly with Earth's, had kept astronomers' eyes on it for several months prior to its destined approach. For the past twenty-four hours, the city closest to the estimated point of impact, Fortree City, remained completely deserted save for some of the area's wild pokémon. The flying-types had been gone, of course, as were the linoone and the mightyena packs. As for the rest? The water-types kept to the lake, knowing they couldn't wander much further than that without risking territory wars with wailmer, and the grass-types and kecleon, neither of whom were particularly known for their mobility, didn't have much further to go than sticking to the surrounding forests and hope for the best.

What was strange was the fact that most of the absol stayed behind. Absol had the capability of relocating. They knew they could move and feed off of whatever they found along the way. It was just that only a handful of them actually left the area. All of them looked towards the sky for months, as if knowing already that no matter where they went, it wouldn't matter.

Standing atop a hill, within a circle of rocks countless years old, was one of these absol. He shifted on his paws as the cold but familiar feeling of dread sank into his bones. The minutes ticked away, but he could do nothing during that time except watch. He didn't bother to warn anyone, in part because he couldn't tell where the meteor was going to land and in part because of that feeling of inevitability that was plaguing his pack for all that time. It wasn't just the meteor, he felt. There was something else, but for the life of him, he couldn't pinpoint what.

Above him, the meteor punched through a cloud and streaked closer in a brilliant ball of red and white. Looking up, the absol hesitated. He certainly didn't expect the meteor to arrive so soon. Jolting into action, he burst into a run down the face of the hill, his claws scraping against dirt and rock. To his side, the meteor fell rapidly, descending hundreds of feet in seconds towards the soft earth.

He barely reached the edge of the lake some distance from the base of the hill when the meteorite landed. The ground beneath his paws shook violently as a cloud of red dust spewed towards the heavens and quickly engulfed the area. In the distance, a great crack and subsequent crash signaled the literal fall of Fortree City, shaken free from its perch in the trees of the forest. Unable to ground himself, the absol flew through the air and landed awkwardly on a paw. His mouth opened to release a loud cry, but it was drowned by the rumbling of aftershocks and the screams of dying pokémon farther north.

The absol lay on the earth for what felt like hours as he watched the red cloud of dust above him fade. Eventually, he tried to move, but his body ached. One of his paws was definitely injured - the back one that was already beginning to swell. He whimpered as he limped north, back towards the remains of his home.

Not far away, a hole stood in his path. It was mostly concealed by the dust still in the air, but he could just make out the shadow of its edge. Gingerly, he limped on his twisted paw towards it. He whined, partly from the pain shooting up his leg and partly from the familiar, cold feeling in his bones. The ground beneath his feet grew hotter until it was almost unbearable, but it wasn't the pain that made him hesitate a few yards away from the crater. It was fear. He stood, leaning more on his good paws as he stared directly at the red glow. At first, he thought it was simply from the intense heat emanating from the earth, but something was wrong about it. He could feel it.

Abruptly, the glow shifted. Instantly, the absol realized that it wasn't coming from the nearly molten rocks around the crater but instead from something inside it. A loud crack - like the sound of rock being smashed with a sledgehammer - filled the air, followed by a chorus of scratches. The absol tried to scramble backwards, but his weight came down on his bad paw. As soon as it did, he collapsed on his knees with a high-pitched whine. He closed his eyes tightly until the pain faded, but when he opened them, he found that it was too late to escape.

A massive, red wave had risen from inside of crater and lingered on its edge. Then, the mass rushed like a tsunami at the dark-type creature. With a whimper, the absol struggled to stand, but the small, red beads that flowed towards him were already washing against his legs. Small mouths tore into his flesh.

Instantly, his eyes widened. He threw back his head, and his high-pitched howl filled the air.

Then, shortly after the howl began, it ended abruptly. The pokémon surrounding Fortree City would have no other warning.

Neither would the rest of Hoenn.


	2. One: Meet

**Anima Ex Machina: One  
It's a pleasure to meet you.**

Polaris Institute existed before Project Stardust, but back then, it mostly centered around technology, rather than the direct study of pokémon. However, when Hoenn succumbed to an infestation of mysterious, pokémon-eating predators, the national government stepped in to take over the most secure and high-tech research centers in its other regions, including Polaris. The best of the best in the Pokémon Symposium, the elite community of pokéologists across the country, were hand-picked by each center to lend their skills to the government in a time of desperation. Hence, Stardust: the project geared towards studying the creature that shut down an entire region.

Ten months had passed since that day when each member of Polaris' team gathered to the circular citadel on Seafoam Island. Not long afterwards, an armored car rolled past the gates, and safely inside that car was a metal box.

The box had since been removed, but the thing that was formerly within it now dwelled in the very heart of the institute, inside a circular building just beyond the rings of the living quarters. Even here, past two other rings with their own complicated systems of locks and gates, security remained absurdly tight. The corridors weaved within the building like a giant, white maze of linoleum and bitter-scented air. Doors were thick, metal beasts with only a small sign next to them to tell them apart. Even then, security cameras - the most recent feature, actually - hung above each door with one glass eye staring at the tops of heads with a scrutinizing gaze.

Then, even more annoying was the lock. Key card, thumbprint, iris. Those were the keys to unlock every door in the inner chambers of Polaris Institute. It was of the utmost importance that the thing inside remained completely removed from the outside world – as opposed to keeping the people outside from getting inside, as most locks tend to do.

Outside one of the doors, a key card slipped through the slot on the side of the lock, and a pale thumb pressed against the silver thumb pad. Lights blinked while the panel above the thumb pad slipped upward to reveal a camera. Hands pulled back green, curly hair as a face leaned forward. A red beam flashed from the lens and trailed down one dark eye before vanishing. After that, the man in front of the scanner straightened, his hands working their way into the pockets of his lab coat as he waited.

A female, computerized voice finally broke the silence of the hallway. "Identity confirmed. Welcome, Professor McKenzie."

The door slid open, and the figure stepped into a room full of machinery.

To much of the Pokémon Symposium, it was strange to think of this young man as a professor, but that was what he was. Born into a family of gifted scientists, Professor William McKenzie burst onto the scene of pokéology only a few years before he came to Polaris, when he wrote a thesis that all but solved one of the greatest mysteries of ancient pokémon behavior to date. He was only a senior in his undergraduate career then.

He was also twelve.

Not long afterwards, he teamed up with a young programmer in Hoenn to develop a device that revolutionized pokémon training itself: the storage system. It, combined with no fewer than six other papers centered around pokémon psychology, guaranteed that the scientific community couldn't ignore him. He and his partner Lanette were inducted into the Symposium the same year the storage system went public. At the time, he was fourteen, effectively making him one of the youngest researchers to receive the honor.

But Professor McKenzie hated titles, and he felt embarrassed when other people flaunted his track record for him. It was too formal for his tastes; it made him feel as if he was expected to act like he was on equal footing with the likes of Professor Rowan of Sinnoh when he knew without a doubt he still had much to learn about his own field.

For this reason, he insisted on being known by a less formal name, a nickname he had acquired in college: Bill.

He had hoped it would make people feel more comfortable around him, but of course, there were still quite a number of people who looked at him strangely. Some researchers felt his method of using costumes to emulate pokémon was a mockery of traditional practices. Others said he was too inexperienced, that his techniques kept him from learning how to work with real pokémon. The controversy nearly caused the Japanese government to skip over him in recruiting researchers for Project Stardust, but luckily for him, he had one powerful backer.

"Good morning, Bill!"

Bill lifted his eyes towards the end of the room, past the rows of humming machines. A window spread across the far side, creating a deep, white indentation in the wall, and by one end of it stood an old man with near-black eyes. Professor Oak's wrinkled face drew into a wide grin as he motioned for Bill to come forward. With a small nod, Bill took a few more steps into the laboratory, but before he could go any further, another voice rose from the side.

"McKenzie!" A woman turned fully from the machinery at the side of the room to address him. "Do you realize what time it is?"

At once, Bill cringed, taking a step back towards the door. He wasn't normally shy around his fellow scientists, but Professor Yvonne Nettle, one of those Symposium members who didn't exactly support him wholeheartedly, had that sort of effect on almost everyone. From behind a pair of oval-framed glasses, her hazel eyes flashed angrily at Bill. Her thin face contracted into a deep frown as she crossed her thin arms. In many ways, her entire being reminded Bill of fragments of glass: the smaller and thinner they were, the more someone had to worry about crossing them.

"Yes, Professor," he finally replied. "Half past ten in the morning."

The long fingers of her right hand began to drum on her left elbow. "When were you scheduled to arrive here?"

Bill paused, swallowing hard. "Half past... ten?"

"Yes." Nettle narrowed her eyes. "And what time is it now?"

Right then, Bill's blood felt cold in his veins. What time? Wasn't it half past ten? Reaching into the pocket of his own lab coat, Bill pulled out a silver pocket watch. He pressed his lips together and found himself trembling slightly as he glanced at its face. The hour hand was almost to eleven, but the minute hand sat comfortably just past the ten. Immediately, the color drained from his cheeks, and he found he couldn't speak. How could he have lost track of that much time?

Nettle, meanwhile, knitted her eyebrows and set her jaw.

"McKenzie," she said. Her voice lowered in volume, but it was still winter-cold. "If you wish to be a fully recognized pokémon researcher, then you should learn that punctuality and professionalism in the laboratory-"

Oak stepped forward. "Excuse me, Professor Nettle."

Immediately, Nettle stopped and looked at her superior. Her eyebrows rose at Oak's sudden interruption.

"Don't be too hard on him," Oak said. "After all, a real researcher is never late."

Nettle's expression softened slightly. "With all due respect, Professor Oak, that's exactly my point. A real researcher is always on time, which is why McKenzie should be taught to arrive promptly, when he promised to arrive."

Oak smiled. "All I mean is that a researcher is never late because he arrives precisely when he means to."

"Given that we're working for the government, surely we should take into consideration a strict schedule..."

"Ah." Oak nodded. "Considering the government, yes, I think we should consider the time he arrived compared to when he was scheduled to work here."

Nettle suppressed a smile as she turned her attention back towards Bill. Her subordinate cringed again. He knew the worst part of his day was just about to begin.

"And in that case, we should consider the fact that Bill was actually on time then too," Oak added.

Nettle turned her head sharply towards Oak. "I'm sorry?"

Even Bill had to send his superiors an odd expression. After all, his watch was in perfect working condition. He made sure of that. It was his _mental_clock that needed adjusting.

In the meantime, Oak took off his watch and offered it to Nettle with a firm nod. "Absolutely. Check my watch if you'd like."

Without a word, Nettle reached for the leather strap of the watch. Her mouth opened slightly as she examined the face. On it, the hour hand pointed towards the eleven, but the minute hand nestled itself between the six and the seven. If it was correct, then Bill would have arrived just a couple of minutes before 10:30 in order to endure the conversation until the minute hand ticked to 10:32. Realizing this, Nettle handed Oak his watch.

"Maybe your watch is a few minutes fast," Oak said with a shrug as he put his watch back on. "You should be careful about that, Professor Nettle. You know how the other teams feel about interruptions, and I'd hate to break up another argument if you go back to Laboratory F to find the biochemistry team still there, especially when we're getting along so well today."

"Right," Nettle said with a slow nod. "Right then."

She glared at Bill. He still appeared heavily confused, and that expression alone tried Nettle's patience. Nonetheless, she hid that fact well.

"McKenzie, I'll assume you've been briefed about Experiment #22a already. Prepare to record observations."

Leaving it at that, she turned and walked briskly to the other side of the room. Bill watched her lean over someone else to check a computer screen.

"You can relax now," Oak said. "She'll go easy on you for this experiment."

At Oak's consent, Bill exhaled a breath he didn't even realize he was holding. "Professor... thank you. You lied for me."

Oak pulled up his sleeve to examine his watch. With his large fingers, he pulled out the pin in its side and twisted the head to turn the hands back to their original positions.

"Eh, I should've known you would notice. Luckily for you, Nettle didn't." He pushed the pin back in. "Bill, I know you don't mean to do it, but please, for your sake, try not to get Professor Nettle worked up again. I can't keep helping you like this, as much as I want to."

Bill lowered his head. He felt the heat of a blush cross his cheeks. "I understand."

"It's different, working in a team compared to working freelance, especially if the laboratory is government or corporation-owned and operated, and I want you to realize that. As harsh as she may seem to you, Professor Nettle is right. There're certain rules you need to follow in order to work well with the rest of the team."

Inside, Bill felt himself flinch. It was one thing to be scolded by Professor Nettle, who was perpetually in a sour mood, but it was a different thing altogether to be scolded by Professor Samuel Oak. For one, Oak rarely felt the need to reprimand team members, although his typically jovial personality was slowly being replaced by weariness thanks to being Polaris's current director. For another, even without that title, Oak was the foremost figure in the field of pokéology aside from Professor Rowan. To receive praise from Oak was the ultimate affirmation for a pokémon researcher. To receive criticism meant that one had a long way to go.

"Yes, Professor," Bill said after a long pause.

Sensing the youth's discomfort, Oak's stern face cracked into a warm smile. "You'll learn," Oak assured him. "Ah, the innocence of youth. It reminds me of a poem, actually. Would you like-"

Bill couldn't decide whether it was a relief or impending doom that Nettle's voice suddenly interrupted.

"Excuse me, Professor," she said. She stood stiffly a few feet away, and her voice was strained, as if she was struggling to keep the sharpness out of her words. "With all due respect, we need McKenzie at his station now."

Oak's smile grew, and without warning, he tilted back on his feet to laugh. His deep, rumbling voice bubbled over every other noise in the laboratory. A few other scientists even looked up to watch him close his eyes and rub the back of his neck.

"Oh yes! I'm sorry. You're absolutely right." He opened his eyes and glanced towards his protégé. "Well, Bill, go on! Work hard for Hoenn's sake! I don't expect anything less than excellence from you."

Although the director probably didn't realize it, Bill had definitely heard that line of encouragement before, uttered to another researcher who felt the cold, hard snap of the voice of another team leader. Nonetheless, Oak's smile and tone were enough to let Bill ease from humiliation-born anxiety to a slightly more comfortable zone. He responded with his own smile - albeit a significantly more timid one - and nodded.

"Right. Thank you, Professor."

He walked briskly to his station in a corner of the laboratory. Oak stood back, smiling as he waited for the experiment to begin, but as a result, he didn't seem to notice Nettle's icy stare at Bill before she focused on the window and what lay beyond it.

Even the other members of the psychology team couldn't quite understand how Nettle became their leader. Granted, she was nearing fifty and had almost as many awards and degrees as she did years on Earth, but it was widely known throughout the complex that she was more than just a little anal. She had previously been a field researcher, known mostly for her endeavors to understand the jynx communication patterns. Bill wasn't the only one who noticed she lacked much in the way of mercy: it was a whispered joke that she could relate more to the ice women than any human being.

"McKenzie?" she said sharply as she looked away from a computer.

Bill recoiled as he settled at his station across the room. The observational deck of Laboratory D was just large enough for the five scientists working on the psychology aspect of Kanto's Project Stardust, yet with Nettle so close by, Bill felt just a little uncomfortable being there, as if the space was smaller than it actually was. He turned towards Nettle and tried to look as professional as possible.

"Yes, Professor Nettle?" he asked.

She eyed him with a serious, nearly suspicious gaze. "Are you ready?"

Turning back to his station, Bill placed his hands on the keyboard of the computer in front of him. With a few quick key strokes, he brought the machine back to life, and a few more let him through its digital security system. The black screen was quickly replaced by a desktop sparsely populated with icons. Bill ignored most of these graphics as he keyed in a few more commands to fill the screen with two boxes. One was a blank document, and the other was a box with a video feed of an open, white room. In the middle of the room were two clear boxes: one of them held a purple and white rat pawing at the sides of its cage, while the other...

He tried not to think about it as he switched to the blank document.

"I'm ready, Professor," he finally said.

Nettle nodded. "Very well." She turned away from him. "Professor Fig, stand by for release. Everyone else, this will be Experiment #22a: Hunting Tactics of XP-650. Are you ready?"

All four of her colleagues promptly replied, "Yes, Professor."

"Good." She nodded. "Open both doors, Professor Fig."

Fig turned his bright blue eyes towards a large console at his work station. His large hand rose and hit the smooth face of a red button with a fleshy palm.

"Doors released," he said as he slowly turned back to his monitor.

Nettle touched her chin as she watched through the window at the far end of the laboratory. Beyond it was the exact same thing Bill was seeing on his computer screen: a large, open room with solid, white walls and a concrete floor. Sitting in the middle of the room were the very same boxes.

One side on each respective cube swung outward, and the cautious rattata in the first box was the first to move. He crawled into the open, twitching his long whiskers as he blinked at the strange creature in the other box. The creature clacked its numerous legs to pull itself forward from Plexiglas onto concrete. It had no eyes, yet it seemed to be staring at the rattata. A cold feeling settled in the prey's heart as he crept towards his left with his eyes fixed on the red creature.

Suddenly, the thing leapt at him. With a screech, the rattata lunged towards the open space to the side. His paws scrambled desperately as his small heart beat against his chest in his mad dash for safety. Yet, even with his speed, he felt the searing pain of eight small, sharp needles planting themselves into the flesh of his shoulder. He screamed once again, and his eyes widened at the bulbous creature resting on his body. His legs still pounded in a frantic, tumbling run as something slid under his skin and sucked on his veins. No matter what he did, including bashing his shoulder into the cement, the creature refused to let go.

With the rapid blood loss, the rattata's movements became sluggish, eventually slowing to the point where he could only stumble inch by inch towards his box. Just before the rodent reached the Plexiglas walls again, he collapsed and closed his eyes.

"Dear God," Nettle whispered. "How long was that?"

"Two minutes, forty-seven seconds," Fig recited.

Bill's fingers clacked on the keyboard to record the number. Then, he glanced at the video feed on his monitor again. Curiosity got the best of him, and he tapped his mouse over and clicked a button to zoom in. He had hoped to get a better view of what the parasite was doing, but instead, a strange feeling settled in his stomach. Right away, he felt his face flush. Although he wanted to turn away, he couldn't stop watching the flickering image of the creature consuming the rattata from the inside out. It crawled up the rodent's side, ripping the flesh as it went until the ribs and the slick insides were exposed. Bill had seen a vast number of different things since he became a pokémon researcher, but never had he seen a pokémon consume live prey with such clean efficiency. Not a drop of blood was spilled, and the alien cut through skin with the deftness of a surgeon.

Already feeling lightheaded, Bill covered his mouth with a hand, but he still couldn't tear his eyes away from the creature. Then, when it began to ooze a strange, green gel into the wound, Bill leaned back in his chair and shuddered, catching Oak's attention again.

"Bill?" he murmured.

Taking a breath, Bill pushed away from his station and stood.

"Excuse me for a moment," he said quietly.

Without any further explanation, Bill quickly walked out of the room.

* * *

"Stop it."

Bill hunched over the sink in a bathroom down the hall. Moving his hands beneath the silver faucet, he watched the red sensor blink and click. Cold water sprayed over his hands and into the granite basin beneath them. Cupping his hands, he caught enough water to splash his face before he straightened. One of his hands grabbed a paper towel from a small pile next to the sink and used it to dry himself. Peering over the towel, he caught sight of his reflection in a mirror that occupied one wall of the room. His face still looked paler than usual.

Sighing, he crumpled the paper towel and tossed it into a garbage can by the door in the corner. Then, he turned back to the mirror and placed his hands on both sides of the sink.

"You're a trained researcher," he said to himself. "You've been studying pokémon for years. Why are you having this reaction now? Is it any different from watching a scyther hunting?"

His mind wandered back to the images he saw on his computer. He thought about the parasite slicing open the rattata, about the sight of the rat's innards, about the green gel oozing into the wound...

A queasy feeling churned his stomach, and he doubled over to gag into the sink. It took a good portion of his will not to throw up. Instead, he coughed and took a few gasps of air. After a few moments of this, he shook his head and looked up to stare at his reflection again.

"All right. Perhaps it is," he murmured. "But haven't you seen worse? How many years have you worked on the field, and why are you reacting like this now?"

He shut his eyes tightly and shook his head for a second time. Gingerly, he straightened his back once more.

"Right. You need to do this, Bill. It's why you're here."

Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and looked at his reflection again. Already, color was beginning to come back to his cheeks.

"There. That's it. Just remember, what can possibly go wrong? You're doing this as a scientist. There's no reason to be afraid of it."

Nodding, he smiled at himself and turned towards the door.

"Nearly fainting at a pokémon's hunting behavior. Honestly, Bill, what kind of researcher are you?"

Pulling open the door, he emerged in the hallway, assuming it was completely empty. After all, it was between lab hours. Most personnel were probably occupied in one room or another.

Except, apparently, for the three fairly large lab assistants who suddenly grabbed him.


	3. Two: Fallout

**Anima Ex Machina: Two  
Helter-skelter, birds flew off with the fallout shelter.**

Today, Bill decided, was not his day. As far as he could tell, the people who had just ambushed him were certainly not normal interns, and he wondered briefly how he could have missed them. All three of them were large men, no less than a foot taller than he was, although that wasn't saying much. What was saying much, however, was the fact that all of them had the muscles of a football player under their starched, white lab coats. One of them practically dragged him along in a way that made it look like he was only leading the researcher down the hall; no one could see that the intern's bulky hand was gripping Bill's arms to the point where it was almost painful.

However, Bill didn't scream or cry for several reasons. One of them was because the second one, who was babbling about how excited he was to work on a project with so many stars of the Pokémon Symposium, was gripping Bill's shoulder in a way that only looked like a friendly grasp. Bill said nothing as he felt the man's hand tense over his collarbone. It felt like his new friend was trying to poke through his skin to the major artery underneath, and Bill knew that one good squeeze there would bring him to his knees. The touch itself wouldn't knock him out, of course, but he knew it would stun him just enough for something else to happen. He didn't want to think about what his captors would do if he became any more vulnerable than he already was.

Another reason was because the third bulky intern, the tallest of the three, walked behind the group at a distance that cast a shadow over the scientist in its middle. Bill didn't have to look back to know that the top of his head barely reached the man's chest, which meant that the man could easily reach up and twist his head off with the same amount of effort one might use to turn a doorknob.

This was, of course, ignoring the fact that any resistance Bill would have put up would be met with three football players beating him into submission. The simple fact of the matter was that Bill was by no means a fighter. He had no pokémon or weapons on his person; Polaris's security measures meant that someone of his rank wasn't authorized to carry any. On top of that, aside from a few self-defense lessons in college and a lifetime of watching B-rated kung fu movies, he had absolutely no unarmed combat training.

In short, he was screwed.

Silently, he let himself be led to a laboratory further down the hallway. They only saw a couple of passing scientists along the way, none of whom seemed to care much about the group. Bill couldn't blame them. All of them were focused on their own jobs and their own tasks at Polaris, so, really, the interns' entire attempt to look at all friendly was rather unnecessary in his view. Of course, he couldn't quite tell them this. All he could do was play along because it meant that, at the end of the day, he'd walk away with his body intact.

He hoped, anyway.

At the door, the intern who guided him by the arm swiped a card and proceeded through the rest of the security measures. Bill watched with mild interest. He didn't know who these people were, but he at least knew that they hadn't somehow broken in. The door swung open at that point, and he was led inside, passing through the doorway without another glance towards the first intern.

Right after the door closed behind the group, all pretenses were dropped. Bill was shoved forward, into a group of waiting hands. Almost all of them wore the lab coats and sea-green scrubs that identified them as interns. Only one of them was any different, a male security officer who stood by the door with his hands clasped behind his back. Bill only took one glance at the latter, and that sick feeling in his stomach grew a little worse.

He couldn't see much of the room thanks to how many people were crowding it. As far as he could tell, it was identical to Laboratory D, with the only difference being a tank of red water instead of a window to a concrete room. Backing up, Bill immediately recognized where he was based on that window alone.

"Laboratory F," he murmured. "This is where they keep XP-650, isn't it?"

"Very good. You know your way around Polaris Institute already."

He looked straight ahead to the source of the voice. At the opposite end of the room, a short blonde sauntered forward. One of her pale hands reached into a pocket of her lab coat, and with a fluid movement, she brought out a black PDA and slid its stylus into her opposite hand. Her purple eyes fixed on its screen as she tapped a few options.

"Now, let's see. Who are you?" she asked. "Oh! Profile match already!"

She looked up and flashed a smile at Bill. Although her face looked like a young girl's, something about that smile made Bill shudder. It was just a little too wide and showed just a bit too much of her clean, white teeth. Or perhaps it was the fact that the girl looked a little too innocent, with curly, golden pigtails caressing the sides of a round face. It reminded him of victreebel: the kind of thing that lured prey in by looking appealing just before killing them off with one swift blow.

"Don't you just love technology?" she asked, using the same tone a girl would use with her best friend. "Of course you would. It says here your specialty, other than pokémon behavior, is pokémon-related technology. I'm a big fan of that storage system of yours, Mr. McKenzie. It's a shame we can't talk about it. I know someone who'd be very interested in learning everything you could teach him. Speaking of which..."

She pocketed the device in her hands and walked forward, brushing past Bill to approach the interns behind him. Bill turned to face her, intending on reaching for her wrist, but before he could move, two of the other grunts grabbed his arms.

"Whose brilliant idea was it to grab him before identifying him?" the blonde demanded.

All three of Bill's former companions cringed. Not a single one of them said a word.

"Don't you know how valuable he could be to us? Giovanni isn't going to be happy," she snapped.

The tallest one wrung his hands. "Well, 009, ma'am, he was the first one we could grab, and you said-"

"Hmph." She turned away from the grunts. "Useless. All of you agents are useless. We can't just let him go and find a new subject because he's the kind of person who would talk, and we can't just capture him and keep him quiet because that'll be suspicious. I guess we have no other choice but to use him anyway."

At that, the girl Bill now knew as 009 turned her eyes back on him. Bill froze, noticing at once that her expression changed slightly. It wasn't the same childlike grin he'd seen on her face just a moment ago. This time, her eyes were slanted, and her mouth was pulled into a smirk. As the girl walked towards him, Bill tried to pull himself away, but the interns held him still.

"What are you talking about?" he muttered. "Use... use me for what?"

The girl chuckled. "An experiment. Don't worry. It's all in the name of science, isn't it?"

"What?"

Bill struggled, twisting his arms in an attempt to yank himself free, but every turn he made, the grunts just gripped him harder. Wincing, he doubled over and glared at the blonde, only to see an orange-haired woman approach. In her hands was a long, glass capsule with metal ends. Within the capsule, XP-650 clicked its legs against the glass, scrambling to climb up a side. As soon as he saw the creature, his eyes widened.

"Wait! What are you doing?" he asked. "Why are you doing this?"

The blonde grinned and took the capsule. "You have no idea what happens when XP-650 comes in contact with a human, do you? Of course you don't. The Committee's been keeping that kind of thing from you for reasons I can't even imagine, but allow me to let you in on a little secret of my own. Team Rocket has agents everywhere. We know a thing or two about what happens. Soon, you will, too."

Bill knew at once what she was about to do, and with that, he tried to wrench his arms free again. "No! I won't let you! You won't get away with this!"

She arched a golden eyebrow and straightened. "'You won't get away with this'? Are you serious? What, do you think you're some kind of hero in a cheesy science-fiction movie? Oh, we'll get away with it, all right. In no time at all, you're going to be Team Rocket property. We've already got all the arrangements set to transport you out of the complex when the time's right. And who knows? If you keep your sanity after everything you're about to go through, Giovanni will even get the keys to the Storage and Retrieval System, so I think we could consider this a win for our side, couldn't we?"

Growling, he kicked the shin of one of the men gripping his arm. The grunt snorted, smiled, and responded by stomping Bill's foot. Right then, Bill was reminded of why he didn't try struggling as he was led there: the larger the opponent, the more painful it would be to get the crap beaten out of him. At just the foot stomp, Bill gritted his teeth and let loose a strained cry. His body leaned forward, but the grunts held his arms tightly enough to keep him upright. The burning pain that was developing in his shoulders as a result was only adding to the excruciating one in his foot. He shut his eyes tightly as his leg began to throb. Briefly, he wondered if his foot was broken, and if that was the case, that was certainly not going to make escaping any easier.

He realized a second too late that the pain was a distraction. Opening his eyes again, he found the orange-haired girl right in front of him. Her hands yanked his lab coat open, tore off his ascot, and let the scarf flutter to the floor. Behind her, 009 flicked her wrist and allowed a black tulip to slip into her free hand. The other hand held the capsule out for an aqua-haired man to grab. As soon as the capsule was out of her hand, she turned her gaze to the side and hid her mouth behind the flower's black petals.

"Cassidy," she scolded, "what are you waiting for? We've got a mission, and you know how the boss doesn't like to clean up potential messes."

The orange-haired girl huffed and frowned. Then, with a quick motion, she ripped open Bill's shirt and shoved him backwards. To his sides, the men holding him went with the movement, eventually pinning Bill to the tiled floor by his shoulders. Bill screamed and thrashed, which only prompted more hands to reach out and hold him down to the floor. In the meantime, the aqua-haired man moved to position the capsule over Bill's bare chest. Upon feeling its cold, metal surface, Bill shivered and tried to squirm out of the way, but he knew it was no use now.

"Scream all you want, Mr. McKenzie," 009 told him cheerfully. "That's what I really like about this place. It's so off-the-hook, isn't it? The walls are so thick and the doors so secure that you can scream and scream and not bother anyone! It's so exciting and secretive, don't you think?"

The man holding the capsule in place pressed a button on its base. Bill felt the opening in the bottom slide open. His breathing grew rapid as he felt something move across his skin.

_Please,_ he thought. _Please no please no please no..._

What he felt next was pain. It was like feeling a large, hot needle getting jammed into his chest. It was like sticking a hand into a nest of rabid beedrill. It was like getting molten lava pumped into the veins.

Bill was certain he screamed because he could feel his throat vibrate. He even saw several of the people around him flinch. It was just that he was too terrified to let it register that he screamed. But by the end of it, he was lying there, breathing heavily and unable to get up. The pain dulled after a short time, but it was still there.

He could feel it moving under his skin.

The hands released him, but he didn't get up. Suddenly, he felt too weak to even move. All he could do was stare wide-eyed at the ceiling while the people above him moved out of the way. 009's face floated into view, and before he knew it, she was kneeling next to him.

"Now, this next part is really going to hurt," she told him. "I'll tell you what, though. I'm going to be nice because Giovanni doesn't like it when his property gets damaged. So, before you do anything to yourself or anyone around you, I'm going to put you to sleep for a while. Okay?"

Naturally, Bill didn't answer. He barely moved his eyes to look at her.

She smiled. "Great. Good night!"

009 placed the blossom by his nose and squeezed the stem between her fingers. A cloud of blue, glittering spores puffed out of the flower, and although Bill would have easily identified it as an extract of Sleep Powder had he been fully aware, he still did nothing except lie there and allow himself to breathe it in. As soon as she saw the small, blue cloud disappear, 009 stood.

"Already taking orders. I can tell this is going to be a wonderful relationship," she said. "Well, don't just stand there! Make this look like an accident! And you. We're gonna need a code red out there. Some idiot intern dropped the container, and XP-650 escaped! Go!"

As the crowds of Team Rocket grunts filtered towards the door, Bill's head began to swim. His vision blurred, and it seemed to be made worse as he felt himself being picked up. The people who were moving him quickly turned into blurs and then faded into shadows. Slowly but surely, every inch of him went numb. Part of him wanted to fight it, to stay awake and maybe stop the thing from crawling deeper inside him, but he knew that he had just as much a choice in the matter as he had since he was ambushed outside the bathroom: none at all.

Instead, he could only let his head fall back and his limbs go limp as his consciousness slipped away.


	4. Three: Pandora

**Anima Ex Machina: Three  
If you come across Pandora's Box, don't open it.**

The alarms were still blaring when 009 darted into her apartment in the Outer Ring of Polaris Institute. She had already shifted command over to her mole in security; now, she had more important things to worry about. Shutting the door behind her, she ran down the small hallway and into a side room. Inside was a fairly modest space with a cot and a dresser against the far wall. Without hesitation, she rushed for the dresser and placed her hands on the knobs on the face of one of its drawers. Before she could pull it open, however, she suddenly heard a cough.

Slowly, she straightened. She peeked over her shoulder to see Professor Nettle standing in the doorway of the room. The woman's arms were crossed, and her mouth was contracted into a small frown.

"Professor Nettle!" 009 gasped. "How did you get in here?"

"Sloppy work, Black Tulip, especially for you," the scientist replied. "You failed to lock your door just now."

"Hmph!"

009 pulled the drawer open. She didn't say anything. Instead, she simply pulled a black case out from under neatly folded clothes. Nettle narrowed her eyes at the other woman's lack of response.

"What I don't understand," she said, "is why you felt the need to stage all of this in the first place. Why would you call our forces in security to sound a false alarm?"

Tossing the black case on her cot, 009 busied herself with opening it and drawing from its depths a manila envelope. At Nettle's question, she glanced over her shoulder.

"Headquarters didn't notify you?" she asked.

Nettle quirked an eyebrow. "Of what?"

"Giovanni must not trust you that much." Turning, 009 slipped a hand into the envelope and pulled from it a photo. "The Stardust Operation is for gathering intelligence, but my mission, the Polaris Operation, is a bit different. I was sent here to collect this."

Walking forward, she handed the photo to Nettle. Glancing at it, the scientist saw the image of a creature crouched on all fours on a cement floor. Even though the image was black-and-white, the thing was the palest object in the room. Crystal spikes jutted out of its back, tracing along its spine and down a tail that ended in a glassy arrowhead. Straight, white hair draped across the back and around the wrists of the creature. Locks of it pooled around the pair of rounded horns on its head and fell in front of its face. The tips of the creature's hair, meanwhile, brushed long claws on both its hands and three-toed feet.

"XP-650B," she said as she handed the photo back. "I already know about this. My operation hasn't collected nearly enough data concerning it, however. We've been blocked from further observation thanks to the Committee's concerns over human experimentation." She narrowed her eyes. "Surely our leader already understands we wouldn't know what to do with one of these things if we captured one."

Placing the photo on the dresser, 009 flicked her free wrist to let a black-petaled tulip slide into her hand. "Giovanni doesn't care. He wants this and the A form, and he'll figure out the rest in our own laboratories, beyond the Committee's reach. I'm surprised he never notified you of my mission. That says a lot about his opinion of you. Then again, he gave you the Stardust Operation to run, and he's highly disappointed in your lack of results."

Nettle smirked. "Or perhaps he realizes that one should never send in a team leader to do a grunt's job. You misunderstood my question, 009. You assume I don't know about Operation Polaris, but I asked you why you staged the attack, not why you're here. Now that Polaris Institute is aware of the possibility that XP-650A can escape, everyone will be keeping a sharper eye on it. How do you propose to complete your mission now?"

Frowning, the Black Tulip replied, "Now, you're underestimating the organization, Professor Nettle. Our operatives have a hand everywhere. We can slip in and out of this place easily, regardless of how well-guarded it is."

In response to her claim, Nettle turned her head slightly and stared at the Black Tulip from the corner of her eye. The blonde noticed the scientist's skeptical look and responded with a huff.

"Instead of questioning me, why don't you make yourself useful and ensure that our agents secure XP-650A? Operatives on the chemistry team have told me that the green substance in that test rattata you used today was actually a cluster of eggs. I'm certain the little cuties will be hatching shortly, and with the number of eggs that were laid, who's going to miss one tiny specimen out of hundreds? Our agents will rendezvous with you tonight outside of Laboratory F. Act like you're bringing them in to brief them on tomorrow's experiment and—"

"And make the exact same mistake you have?"

009 arched her eyebrows but then scowled. Her hand swung up and pointed the head of the flower at Nettle. In response, the scientist merely smirked, slipped her hands into her pockets, and watched the blossom spark electricity.

"I know what I'm doing," 009 drawled. "Why don't you leave worrying about how to smuggle XP-650A and B out of the institute to me and follow my orders?"

"Because you forget my place in the organization," Nettle replied. "As far as you're concerned, if you work in a Rocket-run laboratory, you answer to _me_, not the other way around."

009 lowered her tulip and glared at Nettle. She couldn't argue with the scientist's statement when it was absolutely true.

Grinning at the surrender, Nettle shrugged. "However, for the sake of a potential Rocket victory, I'll humor you and follow your suggestion. Whatever failures come from this are your responsibility, not mine. Do you understand?"

The agent gripped the stem of her flower until it burst into a shower of sparks. She didn't seem to notice. "I understand."

"Good." Turning away, Nettle was about to head for the door when she stopped. "By the way, for the sake of curiosity, whom did you choose to become XP-650's host?"

"You should know him very well. McKenzie, from the psychology team."

Nettle laughed. "I don't know whether to congratulate you or pity you. Our leader will be thrilled to know you infected one of the few people in this complex we were explicitly told not to touch."

With that, she walked out of the room, leaving 009 to glower at her back.

* * *

Oak stood in front of his desk in his office. His dark eyes were fixed on the wall-sized screen behind it. There, he saw a black-and-white clip of a young, dark-haired woman in a hospital gown. She was seated on a bed at the far end of an otherwise empty room, and her shoulder was exposed to reveal the glistening parasite. At first, it was simply a shot of her, swaying as she tried to remain conscious, but then, the clip cut abruptly to the image of the woman with her head craned back and several scientists gathered around her. One of them attempted to stick her with a long needle, but her flailing arms knocked the syringe flying. Pale crystals burst from her skin, letting the scraps hang in bloody flaps from her shoulders.

The clip cut again. This time, her hair had fallen out, and a pair of rounded horns jutted out of her skull. Her entire body took on a shimmering coat of ice, interrupted every so often by a crystal spike. The creature's thin arms wrapped around her naked body as she shivered and opened her mouth in a silent scream. A few more men in lab coats immediately responded by gathering around her. Their bodies shielded most of her from view, save for the limbs that flashed above their heads.

Suddenly, the girl sat with long, pale hair shielding her pallid face. Behind her, a tail flicked back and forth. The patient sat perched with her knees hugged tightly to her chest and her clawed feet curled around the edge of the bed. After a few seconds, a scientist appeared in the side of the shot with his back turned towards the camera. His hands moved as if he was speaking with her, to which she responded by lifting her head.

In the next instant, no one was on the bed, and the scientist had disappeared. Something dark sprayed across the lens of the camera, partially obscuring the image of the room.

Then, a mouth with a pair of long fangs appeared in the shot, followed by a split-second shot of a claw. Static followed, the only sound that broke the long silence.

Eventually, a new image appeared on the screen: one of five silhouettes sitting at a long desk. The Committee.

Its full name was hardly ever used by its members, and no one else who knew about its presence ever felt the need to know what it was. All anyone knew was that it was simply a board of individuals who oversaw the funding and activity of government-sponsored scientific endeavors. In other words, they were the ones currently in charge of Project Stardust: monitoring all operations, collecting all information, and deciding the best choice of action based on the research they received. They funded the efforts, summoned each scientist, and most importantly, watched each designated research facility carefully.

So, several hours after Bill was discovered and the interns were questioned about the apparent accident (the story being that one of the interns had dropped XP-650's carrying case in the hallway and that Bill had accidentally gotten in its way), Professor Oak called them to explain the situation and seek advice. He expected to be reprimanded or even dismissed from his position. However, he only got as far as informing them about Bill and XP-650 when the Committee calmly showed him the video of Pandora.

"XP-650B," the center silhouette said. "Codename Pandora, a former intern at the Valencia Institute of Science in the Orange Islands. Shortly after this video was taken, she killed half the staff and destroyed most of the complex before escaping. Valencia Institute was shut down, and the survivors are currently housed in one of the National Defense Forces' bases to be given therapy for post-traumatic stress disorder. We refuse to have that happen again."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Oak meditated briefly on the name. That wasn't the first time she'd heard a designation like that. Typically, when a pokémon species lacked an official name, the Pokémon Symposium simply referred to it as XP, followed by its number in the National Dex. Therefore, XP-650 literally meant "Unidentified Pokémon #650," the first entry after the most recently documented legendary pokémon Genesect. Letters at the end of such designations, Oak recalled, usually indicated alternate forms: A for the first, B for the second, and so on. The practice was rare; only a handful of pokémon were documented in this manner prior to receiving their official names, with rotom being the last case. If the pokémon Oak knew as XP-650 was only the A form with the one in the video being its B form, Oak wondered how many other forms this single creature possessed.

"Why weren't we told about this?" Oak whispered.

The leader sighed. "We have very little information about it other than what I have just told you. XP-650B has the potential of becoming an uncontrollable beast. Valencia made the mistake of not taking caution in handling Pandora. Do not follow their example with this researcher you described to us."

Oak swallowed. Naturally, his thoughts wandered back to Bill. He tried to imagine his junior slipping into a violent rampage, but it didn't quite fit in his mind. For that reason, he laughed nervously.

"But this is Bill we're talking about," he said. "He's a pacifist. He wouldn't intentionally hurt anyone."

His superior shook his head. "It will not matter. Soon, XP-650 will invade his body and alter his thought processes. Should he survive the transformation, he will not be the same person you know. You must remove the parasite quickly. If you fail, then you must take heavy precaution. Sedatives, restraints, and increased security, Professor."

Oak's smile faded. "Isn't that all a bit much?"

"If anything, it may be too little to keep your staff safe. XP-650B is a powerful creature that should not be taken lightly," the leader replied. "Nonetheless, killing him is not an option. This is the second time a member of Project Stardust has been infected. We must use this opportunity to find out how and why to fully understand what we are facing. Perhaps then we may be able to find a way to stop or reverse the transformation."

Oak listened carefully and nodded once the Committee finished. "I understand."

The leader straightened. "Additionally, we will send you all of the reports salvaged from Valencia to establish your base of information. In the meantime, we request that your reports designate this Bill of yours as Codename Adam to protect his identity once we begin chronicling your reports. We had hoped that we could learn the secrets of the parasite without resorting to a violation of the Nuremberg Code, but perhaps it may be impossible if we wish to continue our work on XP-650. For that, we sincerely apologize. All of the institutions have a right to know, yours especially but also Sinnoh's and Johto's as well."

_Sinnoh's and__ Johto's as well,_ Oak thought. …_Oh no._

At once, the professor remembered the victim's family. Frowning, he looked away. Bill wasn't the only researcher in the McKenzie clan, and even worse, hadn't Bill once mentioned that his father was lending his own talents to Project Stardust?

"Professor?" the Committee inquired.

Shaking himself back into reality, Oak responded, "I understand, but there's something else that's bothering me. Bill's father, John McKenzie – he's a member of Project Stardust with the Johto branch. Shouldn't we at least tell him?"

The Committee leader nodded. "Tell him whatever you wish, but there must be victim confidentiality otherwise. If he agrees to it, we may begin processing a transfer so that he may work under you. We would suspect that he would be interested in working directly with Codename Adam."

Oak nodded. "Thank you. I'll tell him as soon as I can."

"Very well," the leader replied. "Remember, we will take special interest in Polaris from now onward. Very rarely have we been able to study XP-650B. The first and last instance was Pandora, who had completely surprised us with both her generation and her behavior. We can only emphasize that if a similar reaction occurs every time XP-650A comes in contact with a human being, it should be quite obvious that maintaining Adam's captivity at this moment is of the utmost importance."

"Yes. I understand."

"Very good."

Before Oak could say anything else, the call cut off, and the screen faded to complete black. Oak stared at the dark screen for a long while before turning to the rest of his office. With shaking steps, he made his way around the desk, pulled out the chair behind it, and dropped himself into his seat. Leaning back, he sighed and wiped his forehead.

"I'm getting too old for this," he muttered to himself.


	5. Four: Reality

**Anima Ex Machina: Four  
Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.**

There was no such thing as the dead of night in Polaris Institute. At all hours, someone was working. Granted, in the middle of the night, most people had retreated to the apartments of the Outer Ring, the circular building surrounding the clerical and medical offices of the Median Ring and the laboratories of the Inner Ring, but there were still enough people to keep work on Project Stardust going nearly constantly.

Just after one in the morning, one of these workers, a bulky man in a blue jumpsuit, wheeled his bin towards the door of a lavatory. It seemed quiet to him, but he figured it was just the sound of hard, scientific work going on somewhere inside. With a whistle, he passed the door to a laboratory when it suddenly opened. The janitor grinned and, thinking he would exercise an ounce of courtesy, reached over to hold the door open.

That's when he heard a soft voice.

"Shit."

Blinking, he peeked around the door to glance at who was on the other side when he was suddenly grabbed and dragged into the room. Inside, he was greeted by one sight he never thought he'd see. An entire team of scientists, twelve in all, lay on the ground in front of the rows of computers on either side of the room. All of them were either dead or unconscious; he couldn't even tell which. He took a shaking breath and tried to step backwards, but the hands – belonging to two large interns – dragged him forward.

"Professor, this guy was snooping around outside," one of them said.

"H-hey!" he stammered. "I-I-I'm not looking for any trouble. Whatever's going on here, I won't tell a soul! Honest!"

"Honest," a voice echoed.

Looking forward, he watched as Professor Nettle walked out of a corner he couldn't see from his place at the door. Calmly, she headed straight to the tank on the other side of the room and clasped her hands behind her back. Her eyes stared through the window at the multitudes of ruby lights passing like fireflies across a sea of red. Other interns swarmed from the sides of the room to play with the machines. In the meantime, a jynx sidled up to Nettle with a Plexiglas tube in her purple hands. Instantly, the janitor knew what the tube was. It was supposed to be for transporting one of the little creatures in the tank into one of the glass boxes they used for testing. He had watched the transfer happen only once, but he had a feeling now that there wouldn't be a glass box involved.

"Honest is, unfortunately, what I'm afraid you are," Nettle continued.

The janitor only stood and watched as she inserted the tube into a slot beneath the tank and pressed a button on the console next to it. He could hear a whoosh, and one of the red glows shot downwards. The only thing that came back up was a large bubble. Twisting the handle on the tube, Nettle carefully drew the object out of the slot and held it up to examine the single light floating in its center.

"Uh, look, lady," the janitor croaked. "I didn't see a thing, right? I don't know what's going on, and—"

She glared at him over her shoulder, and instantly, he shut up.

"What do we do with him, Professor?" one of the interns drawled.

Nettle sighed. "Well, I don't suppose we can let him walk away, can we? He's going to tell someone. The question is whether or not we have much time before he does."

She sauntered forward with the jynx trailing behind her. Narrowing her eyes at him, she pressed her lips together and quickly went over her options. Slowly, she frowned and examined the tube.

"Your plan, Professor?" the intern asked.

"Let's make it so he can't talk, then," Nettle replied. "Jynx, use Lovely Kiss. And you—" She nodded to a third intern, standing at one of the machines. "—contact 009. Tell her our leader will have to be content with two specimens of XP-650B."

Immediately, the janitor began to scream and thrash, but just as he predicted, the interns held him tight, even twisted his arms to get him to stop. He doubled over at the pain shooting through his limbs, but this action put him in range for the other thing he was trying to avoid: Jynx.

The ice witch swayed her hips as she walked towards him. Her pursed lips began to glow bright pink, and she purred as she leaned in and grasped his chin with a large hand. He felt her strong grip clamp down on his jaw, and as she forced him to turn his head, he winced in pain. No matter how much he struggled, he didn't buy himself much time to protest because in the next second, he felt her cold lips against his skin. Shortly afterwards, a tingling, numb sensation spread through the rest of his head, and he suddenly felt like he couldn't keep his eyes open.

Struggling against drowsiness, he lifted his head as Jynx backed away to make room for her master. Nettle slipped forward and grabbed his collar. With a flick, she ripped his shirt open using only one hand, letting the buttons go flying. Then, using the same hand, she pulled his undershirt away from his skin, just enough to let her slide the tube against his chest. Unable to fight anymore, the janitor hung limply between both of the lackeys as he felt the tube's cold door slide open and the liquid within it rush across his skin.

The last sensation he had before he completely blacked out was the feeling of something biting him hard.

* * *

Bill eventually lost track of how much time he spent asleep. He had retreated into a haze less than a half an hour after the thing burrowed into his chest. Since then, he had been dreaming.

The dreams were strange and incomprehensible. At some points, he had torn off his own skin to find that a metal exoskeleton slick with his blood and the parasite's acid covered his muscles. His hands slipped out of his skin, leaving behind flesh-colored gloves, and in their places were silver-skinned appendages with claws for fingers and garnets for palms. He would have thought they were beautiful if their creation wasn't so grotesque.

He dreamt of internal changes. As if he had eyes inside his body, he watched organs melting, reforming, reshaping, and rearranging to take on new and strange functions. Twice, he died in this dream, but it brought him back - the second heart on his chest. Whenever he slipped, it would reach inside him and ensnare his organs, grasping them until they pumped on their own again.

The other dream, woven between inner and outer transformations, was the most horrifying of all. Bill knew he should have felt pain. The thing inside him was ripping him apart and reassembling him just as violently. Yet, he felt nothing. He could remember no pain, no torment, nothing to indicate that he was suffering.

Someone else did it for him.

Helpless inside his own mind, Bill could only watch his body move as if it wasn't his. It thrashed. It screamed. It struggled desperately as Nurse Joy's team of chansey tried to restrain it. Between these moments were gaps in which he sensed morphine crawling through his veins or watched his bones crack and reassemble.

He saw glimpses of people he knew. Professor Oak hovered over him at one point. Bill could hear the elder's voice, but it said nothing to him. It was gibberish, spoken with a distant tone. The strips of skin Bill (or whatever was acting in his place) had ripped off his own body were being taken away at those moments along with little red vials of liquid Nurse Joy prepared. He never felt the needle or the tourniquet, let alone his blood rushing out of his veins.

Sometimes, there were people he didn't know. At one point, he found himself under bright lights. That caused a flurry of screams and shouts from voices he'd never heard before. A surgeon stood over him, looking from his face to the people around him.

Bill felt no pain then, even though he knew he was bleeding. He wasn't sure how he knew. In any case, his body reacted, convulsing and crying out without his consent. Something lashed out from his side. It was a flash of red and silver - something he knew he never had before the dream began. Whatever it was, it slashed across the surgeon's wrist, the one that led to the hand that held the scalpel.

There was a spurt of red. He could almost taste the surgeon's blood on his lips, and that seemed to aggravate his body. The surgeon screamed and backed away, and his hand rolled off Bill's chest and onto the floor.

From his place somewhere behind his own eyes, Bill heard the wet thump of dead flesh on tile, but for whatever reason, his brain refused to make sense of it.

Another gap stretched across his memory. Darkness came more and more frequently now. There were times when he saw himself being wheeled down the corridors between the rings. He could swear he was strapped down, but because his body didn't react for once, he couldn't move to see. All he had was simply the feeling that he was confined.

Then, there was the glimpse of the room. All he could see was something bright white with a bed and a table and a window. No people. No pokémon. Nothing was there but him. His body thrashed every so often, but once again, he realized he was confined.

That last image repeated itself several times before finally, he turned over to fall into deeper sleep.

It was a terrifying dream, but at least, to him, that's all it was: a dream.


	6. Five: Uneasy

**Anima Ex Machina: Five  
Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams.**

When the dream receded and Bill felt his body for the first time in days, he awoke with a start. Immediately after that, he shut his eyes and groaned. Although he wasn't the kind of person who had a particular appreciation for alcohol, he imagined that this was exactly what a hangover was like: waking up to nothing but blinding whiteness that only fed a pounding headache. He twisted where he lay and tried to swallow to keep himself from throwing up, and right about then, he realized something was wrong. For one, he couldn't actually move his arms or legs. For another, his chest was pinned to what felt like a mattress, too.

And for a third, a pair of voices floated into his ears, and what they were saying didn't exactly comfort him.

"Professor, it's awake."

"He, Sienna. He's a male."

Much to his relief, one of those voices was Professor Oak. The other sounded strangely familiar to him, but he couldn't place where he might have heard it. Slowly, he opened his eyes into a squint and tried to look for the source of the sounds. His vision slowly resolved, allowing his world to transform from an amorphous, white blob to the edge of a bed and a metal rail. Several feet beyond the rail was a white wall, but other than that, there were no signs of people yet. Another groan rumbled in his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut and turned over. Forcing his eyes open again, he found himself staring at another white wall, but in this one, he could see a window.

Beyond that window stood Professor Oak, staring at him with concern. On the left side of the researcher sat a blonde assistant who moved her head back and forth to read something below the window. As soon as he saw her, it occurred to Bill that this girl looked familiar too, but no matter how hard he tried to focus, he couldn't remember where he met her. It wasn't just the memory of her that he couldn't quite grasp, either: all of his thoughts seemed hazy. Resting his head back, he stared at the ceiling and tried to think through his headache to what happened before he passed out. It felt to him like a safe place to start, and anyway, he had a nagging feeling this girl had something to do with the events leading up to that point.

"Sir, this isn't like the other times," the girl – Sienna – told Oak. "It, er, he's not reacting violently."

Oak nodded. "Yes. I wonder…" Clearing his throat, he rolled himself onto the balls of his feet. "Bill? I don't suppose you can hear us, can you?"

Bill blinked in confusion and looked back to his superior. "I can hear you just fine, Professor."

Immediately, Sienna looked up, and Oak raised his eyebrows. Bill shifted uncomfortably as his insides started to twist with worry. He couldn't imagine why he was there, why he was feeling so confined, and most of all, why Professor Oak was on the other side of that pane of glass. Gradually, his head began to clear. The pain was still wrenching his insides, but at least he was starting to think straight enough to realize there was something very, very wrong about all of this.

"What's going on?" he asked quietly.

Oak stared at him in response to his question. Then, after a long pause, he turned to Sienna.

"Unlock the cuffs," he said.

Sienna gave him a wide-eyed glance. "But sir—!"

"Please."

Frowning, she turned back to the console in front of her and tapped a few keys. Then, she withdrew her hands as if every button in front of her was wired to give her electric shocks. She stared downward, but Oak looked through the window to study Bill.

As soon as Sienna was done typing, Bill felt something slide away from his arms, legs, and chest, and right then, the feeling of being pinned down disappeared. His arms fell onto the bed with a pair of thumps, and he arched his back to take pleasure in his sudden freedom.

"Wait, Bill, there's something you should know before you get up," Oak said. "If you're conscious, that is."

With more effort than he expected, Bill forced himself to sit up. "Conscious? Of course I am."

"Well, it's not that easy to tell," Oak replied. "We're hoping you're still the same person in mindset, but—wait! Don't!"

Before he could continue, Bill brought his hands up to rub his wrists. He couldn't imagine why this would be such a bad idea until one hand actually touched the other. As soon as he did, he heard a clack and felt something that couldn't have been right.

Looking down sharply, he examined his fingers. Somehow, while he was asleep, his skin had turned into metal plates, overlapping each other at the joints like the limbs of a suit of armor. His fingertips were no longer the round, fleshy things he remembered. They were now sharp, curved claws. Turning one of his hands over, he found the round hemisphere of a garnet embedded in his palm. In it, he caught sight of his reflection: a gaunt face, fangs just visible in his open mouth, short, bristly hair, and horns – a pair of rounded horns shaped like cat ears on either side of his skull.

Now, Bill had always felt that he was a decently rational person. He would get excited about a success or a recent discovery or a new pokémon in the index, but he wasn't the kind of person to be jumping and shouting over it. Likewise, although he had seen quite a lot of things that would have shocked a normal person – such as, for example, the complete destruction of his lighthouse's beacon by a giant pokémon – he wasn't the kind of person to experience a total meltdown.

Of course, waking up to discover that his hands were made of metal was an unusual circumstance, and as such, it deserved an unusual response. With a cry, Bill jolted backwards, scrambling in an effort to get away from his own hand. In doing so, he could feel his feet and torso dig into the mattress and the foam stuffing flowing out against his metal skin. Looking down, he caught another glimpse of something that caused his voice to catch in his throat. His entire torso was made of overlapping plates of metal, and beyond that, his feet no longer looked remotely human. Inhaling shakily, Bill extended one of his legs and examined it carefully. It looked somewhat normal, although the calf stopped a few inches shorter. Right after where it ended, another joint led into a broad, reptilian foot. Swallowing, he tried to move his toes, only to see the three claws on the appendage flex.

It was at that point that he realized Oak was talking to him.

"—to stay calm," Oak said.

"W-what?" Bill croaked, suddenly finding his throat very dry.

"I understand all of this is startling," Oak continued. "We weren't exactly expecting any of this."

It was, of course, a half-truth. Oak did his best not to betray what he was thinking at that moment. It had been roughly two weeks since Bill had been brought to the operating room in an attempt to detach the parasite from his body, but when he cut off the hand of the surgeon – with what, even Oak didn't know by then – it was decided that there would be no further attempts. Oak knew it was too dangerous; Bill, of all people, attacked without much provocation. The elder researcher didn't want to think Bill was completely lost the way Pandora had been, but all he could do for the past two weeks was stand by and watch carefully behind a thick window.

There were, of course, two things that made this moment not exactly what Oak was expecting. First, the files the Committee gave him stated that Pandora was an ice-type, but as far as he could tell, Bill was a steel-type. Meanwhile, the other XP-650B, the one that had been created (as far as he knew) when a curious janitor interfered with the transfer of a test specimen, was an electric-type. None of it made sense. If XP-650B was an alternate form, did it somehow have alternate forms itself?

Aside from that, Oak didn't entirely expect to be speaking to Bill instead of a thrashing, screaming, extremely angry beast. He had hoped he would, of course, but he didn't really consider it a serious possibility. Yet, there he was, standing on the other side of the window to a room containing what appeared to be a responsive, albeit panicking, human.

"Bill?" Oak asked.

Unfortunately, his subordinate was a bit busy exploring more of his new form. Squirming, Bill realized he was sitting on something, and with that, he reached behind him.

"What's this?" he rasped.

Grabbing it, he froze. A cold, electric sensation ran up his spine and made him grimace. Whatever it was, it was definitely part of him. Carefully, he lifted himself and pulled the object out from underneath his body to let it rest beside him. His fingers ran along the length as far as he could follow it without bending over. Claws clacked along segment after segment along the thick, reptilian appendage, stopping a couple feet short of the sharp arrowhead at its tip. Closing his mouth, Bill experimentally focused on moving it, and on command, the arrowhead rose and fell in time with the tune his mind was playing to keep him from screaming until his lungs exploded.

"I... I have a tail," he murmured.

"Bill, can you hear me?" Oak asked.

He shut his eyes tightly and breathed deeply. His hands reached up to grasp the sides of his head, lacing through the stiff, wire hair on his scalp. Clenching his teeth, he swallowed and tried desperately to sort through his racing thoughts.

_This can't be happening,_ he thought.

At that point, his mind felt like it stopped. He wrapped his arms around himself and curled himself so that his forehead rested on his knees. With a whimper, he shut his eyes and tried his best to ignore what he was feeling. It wasn't real to him. His skin wasn't metal. His fingers weren't claws. That wasn't a tail trying to wrap itself around his ankles. It was all just a mistake. He was still asleep. A thousand different things ran through his mind, but the longer he went, the more he realized that the plate he was feeling against his forehead wasn't going away.

Something warm hit his leg. Opening his eyes, he looked down to see a droplet of water run across his armor. Another one fell from his face, and he realized what he was doing.

It was strange to him. He felt detached from himself. On the one hand, he could feel himself shaking, and he could feel the tears run across his skin and hit his armor. On the other, he couldn't explain why he was doing it or why he could feel the tears running along the metal of his leg. All of these things were foreign to him. They weren't his emotions or sensations, but he felt them. He wanted to say he was scared, but at the same time, he wasn't so much scared as...

Confused. He felt confused. Very, very confused. Lost? Worried, of course, and why wouldn't he be? Mostly, numb. It was like his entire body was doing whatever it liked. Somehow, it didn't scream or thrash. It simply sat there, unable to do anything but shiver. His mind, meanwhile... for the first time in his life, Bill realized he couldn't think straight. He just couldn't force himself to grasp any particular thought.

Oak stood silently. Asking anything else seemed inappropriate, and he wasn't sure if Bill was already gone.

"Sir?" Sienna asked.

"Give him a moment," he replied as he looked at her. "In the meantime, go get him something to eat. It's been awhile."

"Yes, sir," she answered, and with that, she stood and started for the lab door.

Turning back to the window, Oak was just in time to see the victim lift his head. Bill's thoughts were still stumbling across each other in a mess, and he was barely aware that he had moved himself.

"Professor, I…" Bill's voice trailed off. He wasn't even sure what he was supposed to say. His mind was filled with beginnings of sentences and ends of others, but he couldn't for the life of him bridge one broken thought to another to form something coherent.

"You have a lot of questions," Oak said casually. "I would too if I were you. I'll do my best to answer all the ones I can, but Bill, you've got to promise me one thing."

Bill gave him an uneasy glance. "What?"

"No matter what you do, you've got to control yourself. Okay?"

Although Bill certainly didn't like the sound of the request – because there had to be a reason why it needed to be said – he nodded slowly. "Okay."

Oak stood a little straighter. "Well, let's see. Which one should we answer first? Ah. I guess we should try tackling the question of what happened, shouldn't we?"

Bill could only nod. His mouth was slightly open, but he found he couldn't speak.

"Right. Well, after you were brought to the medical wing two weeks ago—"

Bill jumped. His thoughts narrowed down to that one point, and he felt like he was abruptly being jerked closer to reality. Both of his hands clattered onto the rail on the side of his bed and gripped it with the same amount of tension that would have, if he still had human hands, turned his knuckles bone-white. He gave Oak a startled expression as he stared through the window.

"Two weeks?" he gasped. "I was inactive for two _weeks_?"

Oak, who tensed the suddenness of Bill's reaction, took a few seconds to relax into a smile. This was definitely the Bill he remembered.

"I'm afraid so," he said. Then, he raised a hand and waved it in the air. "But don't worry about that. It'd be completely unreasonable for any of us to refuse forgiving you for not working with the psychology team for that long. Besides, you're still making a valuable contribution to the project, even if it's not exactly in the way any of us would have wanted."

"Contribution?" Bill whispered.

"Yes," Oak replied. "After you were brought to the medical wing, XP-650A began altering your body. It's a process the Committee has only one record of; they were hoping to use your transformation to fill in any gaps in data."

Right about then, several more questions finally crawled their way out of Bill's mental train-wreck. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind enough to grasp at least one of them, but only three words came out of his mouth.

"I don't understand."

Oak shrugged. "Honestly, Bill, I don't expect you to after hearing only that much. We don't fully understand it either, but let me try to explain it this way. XP-650A, the subject we were studying before your accident, is actually a predator only to pokémon. We're coming up with theories as to why it treats us differently, but we know that when it comes in contact with a human, it becomes a parasite. It latches onto the human host and transforms it into, well, something like you."

Bill slowly slipped his hands from the rail and raised them to examine them carefully. Gradually, something was beginning to click in his head.

"Do you…" He swallowed in an effort to find his voice. "Do you mean to say… to say that I… I'm…"

"That you're not fully human anymore?" Oak replied. It was obvious, but he felt laying the facts in front of his colleague might help him climb back to sanity. "Yes. Currently, the Committee is calling subjects like you XP-650B, the second form of the pokémon species XP-650. They say it's because the parasite is still technically unchanged, but the designation's still up for debate."

Bill shook his head and went back to holding it in both hands. "I'm a pokémon…?"

Oak nodded. "Yes. No one's sure how it happens. That's what we hope you'll help us find out."

Taking another shaky breath, Bill looked down, intending on gazing at his lap. That's when he caught sight of the other occupant of his body, the small glint of red right over his heart. Carefully, he brought a hand over it and touched it with a fingertip. It came as a surprise to him that he was able to feel his claw on it, as if it was just another part of himself.

"Is this…" He looked at Oak. "Is this it?"

Oak leaned towards the window to see what Bill was talking about. "Oh! Yes, that's the parasite."

Frowning, Bill turned back to it and tried to dig his claws into his metal skin around it. At once, Oak darted towards the door to the other room.

"Bill, don't!"

Skidding to a halt in front of the door, Oak whipped out his ID. Quickly, he swiped it and pressed a thumb against the pad to force the lock to open. When it clicked, he threw open the door and dashed inside.

At the same time, Bill was finding out why what he just did was a bad idea. Suddenly, he felt like something under the skin all over his body constrict, but the feeling was especially strong in his chest. He tried to scream but could only manage a loud croak; something gripped his lungs to make it difficult to breathe. His vision went blurry as he pressed his forehead against the mattress. In his head, he heard his own voice hiss.

_You will not._

Before he could make sense of the message, he felt a pair of hands force him to unfold himself. The feeling of all his organs being clenched subsided, and he let himself be coaxed into lying flat on his back. He was still panting. The pain had only diminished from blinding to dull but still irritating.

"Bill, are you all right?" Oak asked.

Eventually, Bill's vision returned, and he stared at Oak's face. The elder was standing over him. His large hands held Bill down, and his face was full of worry. When the question finally registered in Bill's mind, the patient nodded.

Oak sighed and pulled his hands away. "I know this is all overwhelming for you. I can't really blame you if you feel like you don't want any part of this. However, until we figure out just what happened, please don't try to remove it yourself. It's hard to say what it'll do to you."

Releasing him, Oak backed away. Panting, Bill slowly sat up and stared at his superior. Eventually, after a long while, he began to feel his thoughts settle down a little. He realized then that he was going to have to deal with his situation somehow.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Bill said quietly. "I don't know what to do."

"I'd be worried if you didn't panic. I'm glad to hear you're calming down."

Bill nodded. "Yes, I... That is to say... However it happened... it feels like it might not be that easy to undo. I-I suppose I'll just have to accept that for now."

At that, Oak relaxed. Bill was sounding more and more like his usual self, and for that, Oak was grateful. After all, it not only meant that Bill wasn't about to rip him limb from limb, but it also meant he might be a little more willing to help after all.

"No, it might not be," Oak replied, "but everyone here will do everything they can to figure out what happened and how to reverse it. In the meantime, will you let us study you?"

Bill shrugged and answered softly, "I don't have much of a choice."

"Of course you do. You know how the ethical codes work these days. If you said you'd be uncomfortable with it, we wouldn't be able to conduct anything on you, not even an interrogation. You'll always have a say, Bill."

Bill eyed Oak carefully, and when he spoke, his voice was firmer and louder. "No, I really don't, and it has nothing to do with what the ethical codes state. Professor, as a researcher, it's my duty to do everything in my power to help this project. While I don't know if you'll let me resume my place on staff, I can't say no to allowing you to get as much information as possible from me."

Oak grinned. "You're really starting to sound like your old self now."

"Actually…" Bill let his shoulders sag a little. "I'm simply talking because I don't think I have a firm enough grasp of this situation. It's the only way to ensure that my sanity won't be compromised."

"Compromised? Bill, you don't mean…"

He looked at his elder from out of the corner of his eye. "Professor... I thought I had a dream while I was unconscious. Could you tell me if I happened across a surgeon in the past two weeks?"

Oak didn't know what to say. He only clenched his jaw shut and stared at Bill with a blank expression. Noticing the silence, Bill turned his head and studied the professor's face. When he spoke next, his voice was barely audible.

"I cut off his hand, didn't I?"

"You didn't mean to," Oak answered quickly. "It was a defense mechanism. He was trying to separate the parasite from you. We should've known it'd try anything to keep you two together."

That didn't seem to be what Bill was hoping he would say. Instead, Bill pulled both knees to his chest and buried his face in them again.

"Oh no."

"I'm sorry, Bill," Oak said. "You've got to listen to me when I say it wa—"

Before he could finish, he was interrupted by a loud bang. Oak looked up, glancing over his shoulder at the door. Sienna slammed the one to the hallway open and rushed forward until she stood behind her chair. Her face, which was pale on its own, took on the hue of a sheet of paper.

"What happened?" Oak asked.

Sienna motioned behind her. Curiously, Oak moved to the door and looked across the lab. All of the assistants and scientists that were lined up at the computers paused to watch people storming down the hall. One of them stopped, clinging to both sides of the doorway.

"Professor Oak, sir!" the scientist screamed. "It's Abel!"

Oak headed for the door. "What about Abel?"

The scientist looked over his shoulder as he stumbled into the lab. "He knows Discharge, sir!"

"Discharge?"

Nodding, he continued, "He short-circuited the cuff system, and now he's attacking the door with Thunder! He's more powerful than we thought he'd be! The security system can't handle him much longer!"

"What?"

Rushing towards the door, Oak could see a flash of light. The sound of thunder reverberated off the walls of the hallway, and the smell of fire grew more intense. Glancing outside, he could see scientists streaming out of the lab down the hall. The door lay in a twisted mess beneath their scrambling feet. Light bounced off the walls, and the sound of screaming echoed through the open doorway. Without hesitation, Oak moved back into the room and darted to a corner. On the wall where he stopped, a phone hung. He quickly removed the receiver and pressed a key, and he only had to wait a couple of seconds before someone answered.

"Officer Jenny, sound the alarm," he ordered. "Abel's trying to escape from Laboratory V."

Without waiting for a reply, he placed the receiver back into its carriage and scrambled to close the door to the hallway. All of the scientists backed away from the computers and into the middle of the room. At the same time, Oak drew a set of keys from his lab coat pocket and walked to a cabinet in the side of the room.

"Stay calm, everyone!" he ordered as he unlocked its door. "Abel might be breaking out, but security will be here to subdue him soon. Get ready in case he tries to break down the door. Professors Maple, Apple, and Cedar, distribute tranquilizer guns to everyone who can aim. Don't shoot unless Abel attacks!"

With that, he approached the other doorway and leaned inside to look at Bill. Staring back in fear, Bill sat straight with his claws digging into the mattress.

"What is it?" he asked.

Frowning, Oak hesitated in sharing what he knew, but eventually, he gave in. "Bill, you're not the only person who was infected two weeks ago. Shortly after you were brought to the medical wing, a janitor got into the holding lab while a few of our assistants were preparing another XP-650A for observations. It attached to him, and we've been struggling with containing him ever since."

"Abel," Bill whispered.

Oak nodded. "Bill, I'd like to tell you more, but I need for you to do something."

"What?"

"Stay here. We'll be protecting you in the observation room."

With that, Oak closed the door. Bill tried to stand up and protest, but then, the alarms sounded. This time, unlike two weeks ago when he last heard the beginning of them, it felt like it was several decibels louder than normal. He screamed and bent over, holding his aching ears as the sound continued to blast into his head. After a few seconds, he tried to calm himself just enough to lift his head from the mattress.

Pulling his legs over the edge of the bed, he tried to stand and immediately crashed to one knee. Pain shot through him, but he forced himself to remove his hands and grit his teeth against the blaring noise. Then, he planted his hands on the edge of the bed and struggled against gravity one more time. It took him a few seconds to realize why he fell in the first place: he wasn't used to the way his legs worked. With that in mind, he shifted his weight, placing all of it on the balls of his feet. When he was sure he wasn't about to collapse again, he took his first stiff steps towards the window, just as light illuminated the other room. Resolving himself, he tried to pick up the pace, walking awkwardly to the window to peer beyond it.

In the doorway to the hall, he saw the creature he assumed was Abel. Electricity sparked off the yellow spikes that jutted from the creature's skull, arms, and limbs, and a tail studded with golden barbs flicked behind him. The only things that weren't yellow were his face and the glistening, red parasite on his chest.

Then, Bill noticed the people in the room. Two of the assistants were already electrocuted and on the floor. Everyone else was backed against the sides and corners of the room. Shots rang out as darts flew towards Abel, but before any of them could hit, he shielded his face with his arms and surrounded himself with a field of blue electricity. In the next instant, the field expanded, sending the darts flying away from his body.

That wasn't the only thing it did. Blue lightning struck everything around it, leaving scorch marks on the floor and ceiling, blasting a row of computers, and striking three of the scientists and assistants who happened to be in the way.

Bill yelped in response and took a step backwards. As soon as he did, his tail tangled around his feet and sent him crashing to the floor once again. Another grimace twisted his face, and he looked up to see blue light flash through the window.

Inside his head, he heard his voice speak again.

_Will you simply stand by and watch?_

"I don't know what to do," he whispered.

_What else is there to do?_ the voice asked.

Bill paused and thought about the question. He could hear screaming from the other side. The sound mingled with the roar from the creature and the boom of thunder. In response, he stood.

"I don't want to do this," he muttered to himself.

Yet, despite acknowledging that part, he made his way towards the door.


	7. Six: What

**Anima Ex Machina: Six  
What are you doing?**

There were a variety of things that made Bill McKenzie famous. First was the fact that his inventions, while stubbornly defiant of the laws of physics, made life immensely easier for the average trainer. Second was, naturally, the fact that he was simultaneously the youngest and possibly most eccentric inductee into the Pokémon Symposium, what with the whole host of rumors about what went on while he was locked away in his monastery-like lighthouse.

Third was his uncanny ability to figure out what a pokémon was trying to say.

It should be noted that this ability was by no means psychic. At its heart, it wasn't particularly extraordinary either. Bill simply liked to make it seem like it was an incredible talent by withholding the fact that what he was doing was one part paying meticulous attention to minute details, one part analysis through inductive reasoning, and two parts making a bunch of really lucky guesses. And as anyone in Goldenrod City could attest, if there was one thing a McKenzie was other than a clever bastard, it was lucky.

Unfortunately, luck always came in two varieties: good and bad. For example, Bill's father, who made his fortune from the card flipping machines (and, for that matter, conning trainers out of coins by offering to teach their pokémon perfectly ordinary moves), usually had good luck. Meanwhile, Bill's luck liked to fluctuate wildly. Normally, his guesses were good. The rest of his luck, however, was bad. That should have been obvious enough to him with the fact that he woke up as something definitely not fully human, but for reasons he couldn't possibly begin to define, he found himself wobbling into the laboratory past his room. At once, Professor Oak turned his eyes on him.

"Bill, what are you doing?" he asked. "Take cover!"

He shook his head. "No, I can do this."

Pressing forward, he stared at the other alien. As soon as both of them were in the room, the electric-type stopped and crouched. Abel crept closer to the steel-type, studying him with steady eyes.

Bill swallowed and cleared his mind. He watched Abel's movements, taking note of how low the electric-type held himself and how slowly he walked. He observed the way Abel's face looked and how hard his expression was. His ears strained to listen to the creature's low growl. Finally, when he gathered enough information, he ran through everything he knew about body language to match what he was seeing to similar expressions he had seen on the field. After only a couple of minutes, a conclusion entered his mind.

"You're scared," he murmured.

Abel whined, the sound hitting a series of low, long notes. When he was in range, he stopped, staring at Bill like a kicked puppy.

"Is that all?" Bill grinned. "You don't have to worry. You're safe now."

Abel looked down. "Mmm… mmmaaaa… mmmooooh…"

Bill raised his eyebrows. It was obvious to him that the creature was trying to communicate, but he couldn't imagine what he was trying to say or why he couldn't simply speak. After all, Bill had no trouble in that department. Still, considering all the other signs he'd seen so far, he decided to take it to be a sign of worry. With this in mind, he extended a hand and placed it lightly on Abel's shoulder.

"I know all of this is disorienting, but it's okay. We can get through this."

Blinking, Abel grasped Bill's wrist and pulled his hand into his field of vision. Bill smiled and turned his arm to let Abel look at the palm.

"See?" he said. "I'm just like you."

Abel looked up, eying Bill's face for a while. "Maaaasssss…"

The electric-type released Bill's hand and looked towards the groups of people gathered in the corners of the room. His face distorted into a scowl as he brought his sparking hands up in front of him. Roaring, he fired a bolt of electricity towards one of them. Bill stumbled backwards at the boom of the attack while the group surrounding Abel's victim screamed and scrambled to get out of the way. The victim himself froze, his body completely rigid. Electricity coursed through him before he finally dropped to the floor.

"What are you doing?" Bill demanded.

_Ah, that is a rather interesting question,_ the voice in his head drawled. _What is he doing? Could it be, perhaps, that you misinterpreted his intentions?_

Abel turned to the other group. Oak flung a hand upwards, and the group surrounding him immediately pulled the triggers on their tranquilizer guns. Darts flew towards Abel, but before they could hit their mark, the alien surrounded himself with a field of blue electricity. Seconds later, lightning bolts went in every direction, leaving dark patches where they landed. An intern who couldn't move out of the way quickly enough froze as blue light surrounded him, and the room quickly filled with the smell of metal and cooked flesh.

"What?" Bill whispered.

_Is it that difficult to see?_ the voice continued. _The creature you call Abel is not reacting in fear. Rather, I would say bravery. You see, he is not attacking out of self-defense. He is attacking... _The voice paused just long enough to let Bill hear another crack of electricity. ..._to free you._

More shots rang out, and once again, Abel deflected them with his field of blue electricity. Bill stared in the meantime. His thoughts were on the voice, and slowly, he began to realize that it wasn't actually him. Glancing downward at the red jewel in his chest, he trembled.

"You!"

The jewel flashed once in response. _Me. You were not my first choice for a host, but you will do. Now, do you wish to protect your friends?_

Although Bill shrank at the idea of getting help from, of all things, an alien in his head, his answer was quick. "Yes, of course!"

_Then, do as I say, and trust me. Stand._

Shakily, he pushed himself against the side of the console and onto his feet. Abel glanced backwards just as he fired off another round of electricity. The electric-type grunted and waited.

_When you said, "I'm just like you,"_ the voice told him, _Abel mistook that as a sign that you feel as if you are being held prisoner as well. So, the solution is clearly to help him escape._

"Why would I do that?" Bill whispered.

_Would you rather fight him?_

Bill clenched his teeth. He didn't even have to vocalize an answer to the parasite. Walking forward, he let his actions answer for him.

"Stop!"

Around him, the scientists and interns had raised their guns again. Abel surrounded himself with electricity and, without even waiting for them to shoot, blasted bolts in every direction. Bill gasped and yanked one of the chairs away from the console before ducking behind it. A tendril of electricity hit it, and he held his ears over the sound of the resulting bang. The smell of something burning filled his nostrils. Glancing at the crowd in one of the corners, he watched three more of his colleagues straighten and clench their mouths shut when their bodies became engulfed in blue electricity. Seconds later, all three fell to the ground and didn't stir.

The sound of another roar directed his attention back to Abel. Without any other warning, the creature turned and darted for the door. Bill, realizing that it would be a bad idea to lose the electric-type, stood and walked as quickly as he could after him.

Oak turned his attention away from the door as soon as the XP-650B disappeared into the hallway. With several electrocuted team members and only a handful of tranquilizer darts left, he had to rethink his strategy. He could only wonder where the guard growlithe were, but a cold feeling in his chest told him to expect the worst. Taking note of what he had left to defend the institute, he was about to direct the remaining scientists and interns into regrouping and heading towards the hall. However, he stopped when he noticed that Bill had already reached the threshold and was hobbling quickly out of the room.

"Bill, where are you going?" he asked.

Oblivious to Oak's question, Bill focused completely on getting out of the room and into the hallway. Because of this, he didn't absorb the sound of the tranquilizer guns firing, and he certainly didn't notice Oak falling to his knees. The only thing he sensed was whatever lay in that corridor.

Outside, the smell of something burning grew stronger, and it didn't take long for Bill to figure out why. Abel left a path of destruction both up and down the hall. To the left, in front of the laboratory that formerly held the electric-type, the door lay with one side blackened around the edges. Part of it tilted upwards with a white-clad arm poking out from beneath it. A spot of blood stained the wall, and from that, Bill could only guess how Abel's victim ended up under the door. Around it, the bodies of both humans and several growlithe lay, all of them with red blisters on whatever parts of their bodies charred clothing or fur didn't cover.

To the right was a somewhat less violent scene. His interaction with Abel at least bought most personnel time to escape. What was left behind was a handful of security personnel. Some of them were humans. Their suits, once completely blue, now bore scorch marks, and the rest of each officer looked no better. Many of them had mouths clenched shut and eyes permanently widened. Their bodies were red with burns and blisters, and they lay limp on both sides of the hall. The growlithe near them were slumped in a similar fashion, with their forms motionless but their wide eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Bill didn't have time to check to see if any of them were alive. He could hear the crack of electricity and the howl of growlithe further down the hall. Inside his chest, he felt something warm.

_For the sake of preparation, what techniques can you normally use?_

He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to focus on remaining upright as he passed another door. "Techniques?"

_Yes. What attacks. What moves. How does your kind engage in battle?_

Bill would have stopped and stared, had he not been concentrating on his own movements. Instead, he frowned.

"I was human."

_And?_

An uncomfortable feeling crawled across Bill. It wasn't that he was starting to get a bad feeling about all of this. It was that the bad feeling that was already there was getting more urgent. Nonetheless, with Abel on the loose, he had a feeling he didn't have much of a choice but to cooperate with the parasite. After all, it was a parasite. It had to keep him alive at whatever cost because it needed him to survive.

...Right?

_Bill?_

"Humans don't fight pokémon directly," he finally said. "They have other pokémon fight for them."

_Is that so? Interesting._

He felt as if something cold slithered into his head, and only then did he stop. With a yelp, he grabbed his head and closed his eyes.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

_Teaching you. You are far too slow, and you will need a way to defend yourself._

Cringing, Bill tried to resist, but he felt the cold object push into his mind. He couldn't even scream; his mouth clenched shut against his will. Turning, he put his hands on the wall and smacked his forehead against the white plaster.

_Get out of my head!_ he thought.

In Bill's opinion, it was bad enough that the parasite was inside his mind, speaking to him with his own voice. This situation was a step beyond that. Now, the parasite held his brain, and there was nothing Bill could do to force it out. Instead, he stood there with his forehead pressed against the wall. Eventually, he could feel something warm pass from it to him – something that felt like a small amount of electricity. He could swear he heard a hum in his ears, like someone was whispering to him too low and too quickly for him to understand. After a few moments, the parasite withdrew, and Bill was left with every part of him feeling clammy and dirty.

_That is all I can give you._

Bill opened his eyes. His mouth was released, and as soon as it was, he gasped.

"What did you do to me?"

_I told you. I taught you something. Now, walk._

Pushing away from the wall, Bill stumbled backwards a few steps and came to a stop. He blinked and looked down at his feet. Something felt different about them. Turning, he tested his step and found that it felt natural now. He no longer felt like he was going to pitch forward or backwards with each step. Instead, his feet spread easily and accepted his weight. Pushing off the ground, he launched himself into a short run.

"I can walk," he whispered.

_Yes. The subconscious part of your mind simply needed to be taught how to use your feet. Now, what else did I teach you?_

Pausing at the question, Bill searched his mind for any new information. For a second time, something clicked. With a blink, he held up one of his hands and stared at it.

_Very good. You will need to know that later, I can assure you._

Before he could ask what the parasite meant, a flash of light appeared near him. Yelping, Bill stumbled to avoid Abel. The creature sped past and stopped to crouch in front of him and stare at him inquisitively.

"Abel!" Bill exclaimed.

"Maaaasss?" he hissed.

Forcing a smile, Bill replied, "Sorry. I'm following you. Don't worry."

He turned to walk further down the hall, but there stood a jynx. Stopping short, he raised his eyebrows.

"Where did you come from?" he asked. "Abel, were you running from this?"

The jynx moaned as her lips began to glow. Puckering her lips, she launched herself forward. As Bill stepped backwards, Abel didn't hesitate to react. He balled one of his hands into a fist and pulled it back. Sparks flew from his knuckles as he lunged and swung his arm into an arc. The jynx had no time to dodge; before she realized she was being attacked, the punch connected with her stomach and lit up the hall. Howling, she flew backwards to land with a heavy thud several feet away.

There was no time to celebrate. Behind them, Bill could hear several pairs of feet running towards him. Turning, he saw Professor Nettle, the girl he knew as Sienna, and several large interns surrounding them. The small army stopped a short distance away from Abel and Bill. As soon as she stopped, Sienna casually held up a tranquilizer gun and put her free hand on her hip. Her purple eyes fell on the jynx, and she responded with a smirk.

"Well, Professor Nettle, so much for your plan," Sienna drawled.

With a flick of her wrist, she let a black tulip slide from under the sleeve of her free arm. Bill eyed it warily as she brought it to her lips and slipped her gun in a holster beneath her lab coat.

"Wait," he said. "Just let us go. Professor, he can kill us all, but he won't if—"

Nettle raised an eyebrow. "He's intelligent."

"Mm-hmm," Sienna replied. "Not at all like Pandora or Abel. Giovanni will adore this."

"Giovanni?" Bill whispered. "Who…?"

Sienna glanced at him with a childlike smile. "Did you already forget? I told you all about him two weeks ago."

Bill stopped. He thought back to that haze of a memory just before he slipped into unconsciousness. That girl looked familiar to him, and the more he thought about it, the clearer her face became.

The lab. The Plexiglas tube. The black-petaled flower in her hand. Her laugh. While he could only remember bits and pieces, he recalled enough to know exactly who she was. Scowling, he took a step back and extended his claws to his sides.

"You!"

Sienna laughed. "Wow, you really are as smart as they say you are! Now, why don't you come quietly? I promise Giovanni will give you the treatment you deserve!"

Hearing Abel's growl next to him, Bill shook his head. "I wouldn't even if I could. Now, please, stand aside! Abel will kill all of you if we don't let him go!"

"Is that so?" Nettle asked. "And what are you planning on doing as soon as you escape with a sociopathic pokémon, Bill?"

He backed away. "I… I hadn't really…"

"Hadn't really thought things through?" Nettle replied with a frown. "Once again, no less. Professor Oak commended you for your intelligence, and when it comes to your observations, I can't disagree. However, when it comes to strategy—"

"Are you done?" Sienna asked as she crossed her arms.

Nettle turned her head. "Hmm? Oh yes. Go ahead."

"Right."

Sienna grinned and extended her arm to point the tulip towards them.

"Agents," she said, "attack!"

Each member of the army flicked their lab coats back to reveal gas masks hooked to one side of their belts and vials of blue liquid resting in holsters on the other. Grabbing both at the same time, the army held the masks to their mouths and noses and threw the vials onto the ground. Abel darted forward with a screech, careening into the crowd as the bottles hit the tiled floor and shattered. As soon as the blue liquid within them touched air, it turned into a thick, white cloud of smoke.

In the meantime, Bill wasn't so quick to react. He was already caught off-guard by the ambush, but on top of that, he didn't know what to expect from the liquid within the bottles. So, he found himself coughing and sputtering in a botched attempt to avoid breathing in the cloud. His eyes watered, and he stared through the mist at the silhouettes of the interns. Something was emitting bright light and sparks. People were screaming. He could hear Sienna bark muffled orders, but he suddenly found that he couldn't make sense of what she was saying.

To his alarm, he realized he couldn't make sense of much of anything at all. His body suddenly felt extremely heavy, and the world was beginning to spin. Dropping to his knees, he held his head.

_Bill?_ the parasite asked. _What is this?_

He didn't respond at first. He could only stare through the fog at the light that Abel was emitting. Something exploded, but he couldn't tell what it was. All he could tell was that a hole suddenly appeared in the ceiling, and rain was falling through it.

It sounded like thousands of tiny explosions to him.

_Bill?_

He felt very tired. That was when he knew what he was breathing in.

"Issleeping… sleeping gaah," he murmured.

_Sleeping gas? What is that? Bill?_

He couldn't respond. His eyelids felt heavy, and he found that he couldn't even kneel anymore. Noticing that the ground looked oddly comfortable to him, he slipped to the floor and curled up on his side. Above him, a bright light appeared.

_An angel__?_ he thought.

As he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, he could feel pairs of hands grabbing him, both inside his mind and outside his body.


	8. Seven: Deal

**Anima Ex Machina: Seven  
Never make a deal with the devil.**

Bill opened his eyes to find himself in a place that was definitely not Polaris Institute. Turning his head, he pushed himself onto his knees to examine his surroundings. Above him, what he could see of the sky was gray, but much of it was obscured by the bare, black branches of the trees all around him. The earth and the dead leaves that littered it were shades of dark gray. For as far as he could see, the forest stretched in all directions with no end in sight. Yet, despite how cold and grayscale the place was, he couldn't help but feel as if he had been there once.

"You have," a voice said. "This is the forest around your home, is it not? The forest that surrounds the place you call Route 25. To the east, it will end, giving way abruptly to a beach, and one could follow that beach to a lighthouse upon a cliff – the one you call the Sea Cottage. However, for our purposes, no matter how far you walk, you will never get there. I tell you this now so you can feel comfortable but focus completely on me."

Sitting back, he listened carefully to the voice. It definitely sounded like his. He knew all too well it wasn't.

"You!" he yelled. "Where are you?"

There was only a short beat of hesitation before it answered, "Find me."

Bill pressed his hands into the ground and prepared to spring onto his feet, but before he moved, he noticed something about his body. Looking at his hands, he discovered that his armor had been replaced by soft, pink flesh, and all of his sharpened claws were gone.

Something in his brain jolted. Suddenly, a rush of memories hit him: waking up to find that his body was covered in metal, encountering a man who could produce electricity, breathing in a white cloud that put him to sleep. With each short recollection, he tried to calm himself with rapid gulps of air.

"Take as long as you need. Time is irrelevant here," the voice told him.

This time, he didn't attempt to jump up, opting instead for rising slowly to his feet. He realized that they felt strange under him, although they were definitely the feet he was born with. Step by step, he crept in the direction of the voice until he passed the first tree. Behind it, a flash of silver caught his eye. He turned his head to see himself leaning against it, but this self wasn't human. He assumed it had to have been what he looked like as an XP-650B: the face was his own (albeit paler than what he was used to seeing in the mirror), while the metal-armored body looked more like what happened if a raptor mated with a human. Its claws glinted in the gray sunlight, its legs were bent into the ankle of a long foot, and its tail curled around one set of three broad toes. Yet, as strange as it looked to Bill, the creature stared at him with dark, human eyes – his dark eyes. Before long, Bill realized it wanted him to speak.

"Am I dreaming?" he whispered.

"Yes," the creature told him. Then, it looked away. "Electric-types are the fastest among my kind, but they cannot carry weight well. Therefore, you must be kept asleep and still so that Abel may carry us to where we need to be. Otherwise, I am afraid of what may happen if he drops us. I can smell water outside."

Bill took several steps backwards until his back smacked against a tree. "What?"

The creature turned back towards him. Right then, Bill noticed that its expression was completely unreadable. Its mouth was a straight line, and its eyes were blank. A shudder went down the human's spine.

"I was worried that I would have to emerge in order to free us," the parasite continued. "Luckily, Abel is here. After all, if I were to dominate our body for too long, then…"

Its voice trailed off at that point, and it looked down at its feet. Bill could feel himself sliding down the trunk. He felt numb, and none of what the alien had just told him sank into his mind.

"What are you?" Bill whispered. "What… what do you want?"

The creature lifted its chin slightly. "My kind do not have names for ourselves or for each other. I cannot, therefore, tell you what I am. As for what I want, we are going to a place you know as Hoenn."

Suddenly, Bill's entire body felt cold. "You're going to take me to your kind, aren't you? You want me to…"

Bill sensed that the creature was amused. Considering the look on its face never changed, he couldn't figure out how he knew that. He just looked at it and knew it would be chuckling if it could.

"There are few like me on this planet," it said, "and none of them would accept your human mind. I, on the other hand, have no intention of forcing myself on you."

It strode forward. Bill watched it carefully until it stared down at him. With a flash, one of its metal hands lashed outward and grabbed him by the neck. Gasping, he felt its grip tighten and lift him into the air. His windpipe contracted, and he felt his lungs strain for oxygen. Frantically, he grabbed and pulled the creature's arm.

"Humans are so fragile," it told him calmly. "A few breaths of a poison, and you wither and die. A few wounds, and you bleed to death. I do not know how strong the others of your kind are compared to you, but you seem laughably weak compared to my last host. If I push you too hard and too quickly, you would break."

It released him, causing him to drop to the soft ground. He grabbed his throat and spasmed with a coughing fit. His body bent in half, and he pressed his forehead to the ground. The air felt like it was on fire as it ripped down his throat. As he lay gasping and shaking, the parasite stood over him and spoke to him tonelessly.

"If you are wondering, our relationship is not unique. There are others of my species who, either by force or by choice, have relinquished control over their bodies to their hosts. This has always been true. Therefore, it is my choice to give you as much freedom and guidance as I can, but there is something I must ask you to do in return."

The coughing began to subside. Bill lifted his head to look at his companion. He said nothing, but the parasite knew what question was on his mind.

"You must learn to survive," it told him. "I can teach you all I can, but you must hone those skills on your own. You must learn how to control the gifts I have given you, and you must become strong. This will need to happen quickly. There is something else I will ask you to do soon, but you would not be able to do it until you have adapted to the form I gave you. However, if we waste too much time, we will lose any chance of completing what we must do, and if that occurs, your species will be doomed."

Bill pulled himself back to his feet using the tree. His knees felt shaky, and his vision was still blurred by his tears. Squinting, he rubbed his throat.

"I… I don't…" he rasped.

The creature tilted its head slightly. "Do you find it that difficult to understand? I am proposing to you a contract. Control, in exchange for a very simple favor. Do we have a deal?"

It extended a hand. Bill stared at the metal and pressed his back to the tree trunk behind him. Right then, it all hit him. If he took that hand, he'd be bound by contract to do exactly the kinds of things he wanted to avoid. Fighting? Gifts? He didn't even know what favor the thing wanted or what he was getting himself into. Trembling, he shook his head.

The creature knelt in front of him. "No?"

"Please… please leave me alone," Bill whispered.

"Have I really failed to make myself clear with my last example?"

It placed a hand on his shoulder. At first, it was just a light touch, but as seconds passed, the hand grew heavier. The grip tightened until Bill could feel the claws pierce through his skin and dig deep into the muscle of his shoulder. He cried out and gripped the monster's arm. Hot pain laced from where the fingers were burrowing deep into his flesh, and he shut his eyes tightly.

"Oh gods!" he cried. "Let _go_!"

The hand squeezed harder. Bill could almost feel its fingers brushing his bone. The creature leaned close and whispered into Bill's ear. Its breath was cold and smelled like the sea.

"I am inside you," the creature hissed. "To reject me will be suicide. You will either be killed by my brethren, or I will kill you to find a new host. The truth is, Bill, that the only painless alternative you have is to surrender. To go deep down inside yourself – so deep that your mind will drown in my consciousness, and you will cease to exist. I could do that to you in an instant, but because you are useful to me, I give you a choice. I offer you peace and a chance to live with me, but it must be on my terms. Do you understand?"

Shakily, he nodded. His mind was focused on the pain, and he felt his limbs wobble and his body grow weaker. Both of his hands slipped off the creature's arm and hung at his sides. As his vision began to grow dark, he forced himself to think about the words it said.

"Good."

The creature presented its free hand. Bill stared at it. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want any of this. He wanted to be back in Polaris with his own body and his own thoughts, but he suspected both were just beyond his reach for the time being.

Weakly, he wrapped his hand around his partner's. The metal fingers nearly crushed his, but luckily, the contact lasted for only a second. As soon as it happened, the monster pulled away from him, drawing its fingers out of Bill's shoulder. He screamed for a second time as blinding pain ripped through him, but as soon as he reached up to grab his shoulder, he stopped. Panting, he looked down to see that the bare, white skin of his shoulder was just that: bare and white, with not even a scar to tell him that five needles had been jammed deep into it just a moment ago. Even the pain was almost completely gone.

Completely indifferent to Bill's curiosity, the creature stood and turned. "Now that formalities are out of the way, there is one other order of business I believe we must attend to before you awaken. Because you humans have difficulties comprehending anything without giving it a name, I suppose I should choose one for myself before you take to calling me by that ridiculous designation you gave my species."

Breathing shallowly, Bill struggled to stand, using the tree as support. He felt light-headed, as if at any second, he would drop face-first into the ground again. It felt like a miracle to him that he could remain standing long enough to stare at his companion.

"They gave me a name, you know," it said. "Your colleagues, I mean. They gave me one like they did for Abel." It looked over its shoulder. "Adam. It is not quite the name I would have chosen for myself, but it will do."

At that point, Bill's mouth moved, although he wasn't entirely conscious of the fact that he was speaking.

"Adam…"

It clasped its claws behind its back. "I read your memory to understand your kind better. Adam was the first man." It looked forward. "Ironic, is it not?"

Exhaling, Bill once again whispered, "Adam…"

Adam straightened its back. "Something is happening outside. Wake up."

Before Bill could reply, the forest and Adam vanished.

* * *

When Bill awoke for a second time, he opened his eyes to a cold world of color. Below him, he saw a blur of brown and green, and above him, there was a stretch of blue and white. A streak of yellow and red passed over him, screaming, as he was sent careening towards a patch of green. The journey towards the patch was short; he hit it with a bang seconds after he was dropped. He squinted, and the blurs of color around him morphed into the wobbling vision of a field fringed by trees. Gunshots and cracks of thunder filled his ears, and the bitter smells of metal and gunpowder flooded his nostrils.

With some effort, he turned over and lifted his head. Bill squinted and tried to will the world to stay still just enough for him to see. Several feet in front of him, he caught sight of a group of people – ten in all – in various civilian clothes. All of them had guns in their hands and electrike around their feet, and in one large hunting party, they almost completely surrounded Abel.

The electric-type looked, in Bill's opinion, absolutely terrible. Blood ran out of a red wound in his shoulder, and from the other shoulder, his arm hung limply with a bone jutting out of its side. Half the hand on the broken arm was missing; it stopped at a ragged line – the edge of a hole left by a point-blank gunshot wound, no doubt. His tail looked just as incomplete.

Roaring, Abel surrounded himself with blue light and released another volley of electrical bolts. The electrike barked and pounced forward, into the attack. Before a single bolt could strike their human companions, the pack absorbed the electricity and dropped to the ground. None of them had so much as a burn on them. Each electrike simply stood on all fours, teeth bared and growls rumbling in a chorus.

Another gunshot rang out, and Abel reeled forward. Blood spurted from the back of his skull as another one of the civilians placed a gun barrel against the jewel in Abel's chest. The trigger was pulled, and one last shot boomed. Abel fell backwards, green gel and red blood flying as he fell to the red-slicked grass. He didn't get up again.

The civilians hesitated, waiting for Abel to move. One even lowered her rifle and nudged his body with the barrel. When he didn't stir, the group looked at Bill.

"Now the other one," one of the civilians said.

With a shuddering cry, Bill realized what they were about to do. As they moved towards him, he sat up and scrambled backwards. His eyes widened, and he felt his breath quicken. Placing a hand over his chest, he trembled and forced himself to speak.

"W-wait!" he cried.

They stopped and looked at each other.

"It spoke," a woman in the group whispered.

"Can it understand us?" a man muttered.

The group turned towards someone in the middle of their formation. They parted to allow her to walk through.

Normally, Bill would be comforted by the sight of an Officer Jenny. Her blue police officer's uniform represented justice and safety to the majority of his world. No matter where she went, there would be order. However, there was a glint in her coffee-colored eyes that made him uneasy, and the way her glossy lips pursed made him think of a judge about to sentence a convict. Of course, the latter notion might have come from the fact that she was holding a black handgun that was pointed directly at him, and although Bill knew very little about weapons, he thought it looked powerful enough to put a hole right through him.

There was a long moment of silence. Officer Jenny kept her hand steady as she looked at him with a critical eye. Tilting her head, she finally found something to say.

"Do you have a name?" she asked.

He sat up, blinking. His mind scrambled to grasp her question. It seemed so casual and out-of-place that he couldn't even understand it at first. Then, his mouth pushed to speak.

"Bill," he murmured.

Jenny nodded, her eyes settling on the hand on his chest. Behind her, a member of the hunting party stepped forward.

"Should we kill it?" he asked.

Jenny shook her head. "I've got a better idea."

She swung her arm. The barrel of her gun cracked against the side of Bill's head, sending him sprawling into the ground. Once again, his vision darkened, and he found himself quickly slipping into unconsciousness.


	9. Eight: Situation

**Anima Ex Machina: Eight  
Greater than situation is implication.**

_SEARCHING..._

_SEARCH RESULTS CLASSIFIED. ENTER PASSWORD._

_TIER 3 ACCESS ACKNOWLEDGED. PLEASE WAIT._

_Polaris Institute Employee Dossier  
ID NO. #025124202 PENDING UPDATE: TERMINATED. DESIGNATED PROJECT STARDUST SUBJECT 002: CODENAME ADAM. DESIGNATION AWAITING ACKNOWLEDGEMENT FROM NATIONAL DEFENSE FORCES.  
Name: McKenzie, William H  
Clearance level: CLEARANCE SUSPENDED. DENY ACCESS ON ALL LEVELS.  
Notes: Infected with parasite XP-650A. Quarantine level 5. UPDATE: ESCAPED. RETRIEVAL PRIORITY 1. TIERS 2 THROUGH 5 NOTIFIED; INSTRUCTIONS ACKNOWLEDGED._

_FURTHER INFORMATION CLASSIFIED. MINIMUM TIER 4 CLEARANCE REQUIRED. ACCESS DENIED._

The cursor continued to blink on a laptop's screen in Viridian City. It was the second dossier that crossed that screen, but it was the one that made the man staring at it drum his large fingers on the surface of the desk in front of him. His black eyes fixed themselves on the other window on his monitor, the one containing a video conference call with Professor Nettle and the Black Tulip. Nettle wrung her hands nervously; 009 stood beside her, stiff and emotionless. For a long while, the man simply stared at them, ignoring even the persian rubbing herself against one of his legs.

Suddenly, the man balled his hand into a bulky fist and slammed it into his desk. The persian withdrew, her cream-colored fur standing on end. With a screech, she darted away and hid herself behind a plant in the corner of her master's dimly-lit office. Quietly, she watched the man with one eye while he spoke in a low tone.

"Do you mean to tell me you let Team Rocket property escape?"

The Black Tulip lifted her chin. "Giovanni, I know this seems like a disappointment, but it's only a minor complication. We can harvest new specimens."

"009, normally, I'm very patient with you," he growled, "but you've already failed me one too many times. I thought you were my finest officer."

In a split second, the agent's face paled, but just as quickly as it happened, she straightened and forced her face to take on its emotionless state again. "Don't worry. I still am. The Polaris Operation isn't over yet."

"That's where you're sadly mistaken," Giovanni replied. "The situation at Polaris Institute is unrepairable. You've called an attack, and many of our agents' covers have been compromised in the process. I have reason to believe that the authorities are aware of our presence within the facility. Security will be at its highest. Access to XP-650 – either form – will be nearly impossible."

"Nearly but not completely! I can still get you two more!"

Giovanni pounded the desk again. "Enough! 009, for the past few years, you have given me nothing but one failure after another for no reason I can understand. I've been growing increasingly tired of your inability to give me results, and now you have the audacity to offer empty promises instead?"

She clenched her fists in an attempt to keep herself from shaking. "Giovanni, this is only a minor setback! I can do this!"

"A minor setback would be if you lost only one specimen without being detected. However, you have alerted the entirety of Polaris Institute to our presence while losing two fully-grown XP-650B. Your incompetence doesn't stop there, either. One of the potential weapons you've created and quickly lost would have been better use to us as a human. Or perhaps you didn't think to get the security codes for the Storage and Retrieval System from McKenzie before you let him escape, did you?"

009 stiffened her body. "Giovanni, I didn't select the targets. I—"

"Who was given command of the Polaris Operation?" Giovanni roared. "You, 009, were given very simple instructions: select a single target, ensure his infection, incapacitate him after transformation, and transport him out of the facility. You have done only one of these things correctly, and now, you wish to pass the blame for your inability to lead to someone else? In light of all of this, I relieve you of your position at Polaris Institute. You are as of now reassigned to a mission even you can't screw up."

"Giovanni!" she screamed.

He completely ignored her. "I will be arranging your withdrawal from Polaris Institute under the pretense that you have submitted a request to transfer to the facility in New Bark Town. A transport ship run by one of our operatives will come to pick you up in three days to take you to Hoenn."

"Hoenn," 009 repeated. Her arms went limp as she began to realize just what this reassignment meant. "Giovanni, you can't..."

"Your new mission," he continued, "is to locate one specimen each of XP-650A and XP-650B and contain them both. Transport them to a base Team Rocket officers have established in Slateport City before anyone becomes aware of our presence in the region."

009 didn't respond. Her arms hung at her sides, and she stared at the screen blankly. She couldn't say a word. This was her superior, the man who up until recently, she had wrapped around her finger. Now, he was sending her to a war zone to do a grunt's job. What else could she do?

"Furthermore," Giovanni said, "if you locate McKenzie, you are to capture him and bring him in addition to the samples you've collected. If we can't use him to take control of his system, we can at least use him as part of our army. Is all of this clear, or do I need to repeat myself in simpler words?"

"It's clear, sir," 009 said softly.

"Good. As for you, Professor Nettle..."

Nettle lifted her chin. For the entirety of the conversation, she was busy steeling herself. Part of her was struggling not to show pleasure at the sight of the Black Tulip being reprimanded while another part knew that the next blow Giovanni would land would be on her.

"Yes, sir?" she asked.

"You are to follow her," he told her.

Although Nettle could feel her face grow hot, she tried her best to remain as calm as possible. "Follow her, sir? But haven't I done a satisfactory job with the operation you've given me?"

"From what I understand," he snapped, "it was your fault that Codename Abel was created, and if you must ask about your performance before your blatant act of defiance, your so-called leadership skills have only been an embarrassment to the company as a whole. You're lucky enough that I'm not sending you back to the Ellesmere camp where I found you."

"But sir-!"

"Do you understand your mission, or would you prefer a colder assignment?"

At the tone of his voice, Nettle jumped and bowed her head. "I understand completely, sir."

"Good. Then, prepare yourselves. You have three days." He emphasized the last two words, as if his tone was a hammer that drove each syllable into their skulls like spikes.

They were about to say something in return when one of his thick fingers hit a button on the computer. The window containing their call immediately closed, and his office fell silent. Cautiously, Persian crept out of her corner and padded back to her master. With a smirk, he reached down and stroked her silky coat, smoothing it down with each touch.

In front of his desk was a pair of chairs, well out of view of the laptop's webcam. A red-headed woman in white quietly sat in one of them, her legs crossed and her hands folded neatly on her lap. She watched her superior cater to his pokémon until she cleared her throat.

"Team Rocket has no base in Slateport City," she said.

Giovanni glanced into the red eyes of his executive. "You're far smarter than they are."

"I try, sir."

At her response, Giovanni grinned and stood, turning to face the window behind him. He reached for the blinds and separated two of its plastic bars just enough to peer out into the bright daylight.

"You're correct," he said. "There is no base. However, should they be lucky enough to survive and complete their mission, we can send operatives to pick up their results."

"What about Professor Nettle and 009? Wasn't the infamous Black Tulip your favorite agent?"

Giovanni nodded. "She was, but as you can see from our conversation just now, she's since become incompetent. Professor Nettle was barely useful at all, even as a mole within the Pokémon Symposium. It would be far better to release them in Hoenn. If they don't succeed, we would at least save ourselves the trouble of disposing of two hindrances to our organization." He looked over his shoulder. "What do you think of this, Ariana?"

She smiled. "It's a brilliant strategy."

"Yes," he drawled. "You're far more clever than 009 could ever hope to be. Ariana, I'm reassigning both Professor Nettle's and 009's operations to you. Salvage them, and don't disappoint me."

At once, she stood and bowed. "You can trust me, sir."

* * *

Looking at John McKenzie, one would never guess he and Bill were in any way related. They had the same shape of face, but while Bill was short and dark-haired (though the latter was artificial), John was tall, with the only hair on his head being his mouse-brown eyebrows, mustache, and goatee. Bill spoke softly, holding his voice back to morph a thick, Goldenrod dialect into something that could be easily understood, but John's voice boomed through a room, his tongue rolling in what sounded like a thick, Scottish accent.

So, while Bill would walk down the halls of Polaris without being noticed when he didn't want to be, John's heavy footsteps resounded off the walls as he joyfully greeted several very startled officers in security. It took him several minutes to pass through checkpoints and file paperwork because of this, but at the end of it, beyond a final metal detector in a long, white hallway, he came face-to-face with two people who made him quiet down: Professor Oak and a dark-haired intern.

"Sam!" John exclaimed as he gave him a firm handshake. "It's been far too long, you arcanine!"

The aide cringed a little – not enough to be noticed by normal people, but John was just as observant as his son. With a laugh, he clapped a hand roughly on the boy's shoulder.

"Who's this?" he asked. "Sam, he looks barely old enough to grow hair on his chin!"

"Tracey Sketchit, sir," the boy croaked under the weight of the hand.

John laughed, the sound echoing down the hall. "No need to 'sir' me! Call me John! You know, you remind me of my son: not much older than a boy but very eager and even more uptight. Relax! Life is beautiful! Ah, that reminds me."

He turned to Oak. All of a sudden, his face darkened, and his smile faded. Tracey shivered and took a step back, but Oak set his jaw and waited for the inevitable question.

"Professor," John said, "where is William?"

* * *

As soon as Bill opened his eyes, he winced in pain and shut them again. His head felt like someone took a mace to it, and the bright light and stark white ceiling above him weren't helping.

_Why does this feel familiar?_ he thought.

He forced an eye open, and one of his hands tried to move to rub his temples. However, before that hand could go far, something snapped at his wrist and stopped his movement with a rattle. Another wave of déjà vu hit him hard as he opened both his eyes and tried to sit up.

Whatever brought him to that room apparently took no risks. He was on a hospital bed as far as he could tell, but that was the most generous thing the people did for him. Beyond that, his wrists were handcuffed to the rails on the sides of the bed, and his hands were wrapped in mittens made of duct tape. A length of chain wound itself over his torso and under the bed to pin him to the mattress. Another chain bound his legs to the bed while duct tape held his ankles together. Then, if it wasn't enough already, his tail was taped to his right side. Helplessly, he twitched the arrowhead, but it could just barely rub against the edge of the tape.

"You've got to be kidding me," he muttered.


	10. Nine: Voices

**Anima Ex Machina: Nine  
What are fears but voices airy?**

Ellen Joy, the chief nurse of Mauville City's pokémon center, was more or less like every other Nurse Joy in existence. Her pink hair was drawn into loops, just like the hair of the Nurse Joys in each of the other centers. She wore the same pressed uniform that was standard issue to all Nurse Joys. Her eyes had the same blue color as all her sisters, and she commanded her chansey companions with the same soft voice as her cousins. It would take the skills of only the particularly observant to tell her apart from any other female member of the Joy family. She couldn't explain why her family was like that. It just was.

However, she also knew that a whole list of things separated her from her relatives. Most Nurse Joys faced trainers with a sense of compassion and optimism, an expression that told trainers that no matter how badly their pokémon were hurt, the center's staff would do its best to help the injured pull through. Their smiles were genuine and sweet, but Ellen, as a result of spending months watching her city fall bit by bit to the aliens outside of it, had to force herself to smile those days just to boost the survivors' morale. Oftentimes, she would walk down the halls of her empty pokémon center – just one more thing that separated her from the other nurses – not really thinking about anything at all except trying to maintain her hollow grin.

Beyond that, she had more responsibility than her relatives, having been appointed as not only a caretaker for the sick and injured but also a mother figure to the last inhabitants of Mauville City. People, afraid of being on their own in their almost-empty city, had taken up residence in all of the trainers' dorms, and she was the one to offer food, water, and a listening ear to anyone who needed it. This included whoever they found on the outskirts of town.

One of these findings was currently chained up in one of the recovery rooms. She was paused at the door beside her chansey, her blue eyes fixed straight ahead in a calm stare. A tray was in her hands, and on it was a covered bowl and a glass of water. Both rattled as she tried to compose herself.

"Chan," her companion cooed softly.

She glanced at Chansey. Nodding, she took a deep breath.

"Right. It's just like any other pokémon."

The pink pokémon smiled and trilled as she opened the door. Straightening her back, Ellen cautiously stepped inside.

Less than a day ago, the city's Officer Jenny came back with the fishing party assembled to gather food for the survivors. They weren't carrying fish, as they'd promised. Instead, they carried a metal creature, a thing that looked to her like a lizard with a human's face. Officer Jenny offered no explanation as the party bound it to the bed. Instead, all she said was that when it woke up and was ready to offer any sort of answer, she was to be contacted.

Right then, Ellen nearly dropped the tray when she realized the creature's dark eyes were open. It turned its head to watch her walk forward. Whimpering softly at the image of its face, Ellen fixed her eyes on the small table next to the bed and tried to avoid thinking about what was in the room. Focusing on the table calmed her just enough to let her approach it and set down the tray without spilling the contents of either containers.

"It's good to see that you're awake," she said. "I'm sorry for all the chains, but I promise I'm here to help you. Are you hungry? I brought you some food. I could leave it here if you're not ready as well."

"Thank you."

And then she screamed.

When she realized what she had just done, Ellen slapped both of her hands over her mouth. She whirled around to face the occupant of the bed and took a few steps backwards. At the same time, it flinched and turned its head away from her, shivering as it gritted its teeth.

"If you don't mind, please don't do that again," it told her quietly. "I apparently have sensitive hearing."

Gradually, she pulled her hands away from her mouth. They were shaking uncontrollably, even as Chansey stepped into the room and put both stubby arms on Ellen's side to comfort her.

"You... you can talk?" she whispered.

The metal creature rested its cheek on its pillow and gave her a strange look. Ellen crept closer, her hands moving over her chest. Chansey remained where she was, watching the two of them carefully.

"M-my name is Ellen. Ellen Joy," she said.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Bill."

Ellen paused. Male. This creature was male. Of course, this wasn't the thing that was currently putting her thought processes on hold. It was mostly the fact that she was holding a conversation with a member of a species that had annihilated most of Mauville City, and apparently, the creature in question believed in polite manners. To her, focusing on that one little fact she had just discovered about his gender made her feel slightly more sane than she was five seconds ago.

Meanwhile, Bill, was just taking some relief in the fact that he had just spent two minutes in the room with a complete stranger, and that stranger wasn't trying to hurt him yet. This idea gave him enough courage to relax and try communicating with her again.

"Excuse me. Nurse Joy?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Huh?"

"Could I ask you to let me go?"

"I..."

Chansey perked up and immediately waddled out of the room. Ellen, meanwhile, looked down at her feet. The nurse couldn't quite figure out what she was supposed to do. After all, it had taken her a couple of hours to get over the shock of having the thing – the same species of creature she had seen rip off children's heads in previous attacks – inside her hospital in the first place, and now he started talking to her like he was just any other human being. Trembling, her knees gave out, and she plopped onto the floor with her legs folded under her.

Bill lifted his head just enough to look at her. "Are you all right?"

She covered her eyes with a hand, and she could feel tears wet the skin of her palm.

Right then, before Bill could ask her what was wrong, Chansey came back in with a pair of scissors. Hearing the soft cooing of her partner, Ellen removed the hand just in time to see Chansey approach Bill and start cutting off the duct tape around one of his hands.

"Chansey, no!" she yelled.

Bill grimaced again, but before he could say a word, Chansey did instead.

"Chansey chan chan chansey."

Instantly, Bill sat bolt upright – or at least as close to upright as he could get before the chains hit his torso and caused him to slam back into the mattress. Chansey snapped at him sternly and ripped off the first duct tape mitten while he looked from it to Ellen.

"Did... can your chansey talk?" he whispered.

Chansey moved to cut through the duct tape binding his feet and tail. Watching this, Ellen let her hands fall to her sides as something dawned on her. It began as a slow realization that ate its way into her brain before consuming the rest of her thoughts until she focused on it and it alone.

"Why aren't you attacking?" she whispered.

Bill, already thoroughly confused by the fact that he could understand the chansey perfectly (both her words of encouragement to Ellen and the order to stay still), stared at her uncomfortably before letting his head drop on the pillow.

"This is a dream," he muttered to himself. "That's the only way any of this can make sense."

Ellen rose to her feet. Not a single one of Bill's words registered to her. She approached his side as Chansey walked around the bed to take off the other glove. Bill looked up at the human nurse and squirmed at the blank expression on her face. Then, he felt her hand grasp his, and at that, he tried to pull away.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Why aren't you attacking me?" she repeated.

"Why..." Bill stared at her in curiosity. "I don't want to hurt you."

She stared at him for a moment while she processed what he just said. "You... you don't want to hurt me?"

He shook his head. "No. Not at all. Why would you think I would?"

Her eyes stared into his and studied his expression. Bill squirmed again, but he didn't pull away, not because he physically couldn't but instead because he was starting to see something. There was an explanation behind all this fear she showed him, and the intensity of her stare told him she was very close to letting down her guard a little.

"You're telling the truth," she said.

He nodded. "I am."

She exhaled. Then, after a long pause, she reached over and pressed a button on the side of the bed. Half of it raised, lifting Bill up just enough so that he was, in effect, sitting up.

"I'm sorry," she told him. "I'm not used to seeing an ixodida up close."

"What?"

Stopping, she looked at him.

"Ixodida," he said. "What do you mean by that?"

She smiled. "Oh. You must not call yourselves that. Ixodida is what the researchers in Littleroot Town are calling your kind."

"Littleroot Town," he whispered. "Professor Birch's laboratory must be..."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ellen raised her eyebrows. "You know who Professor Birch is?"

He nodded. "Yes. I've worked with him before."

"...You still think like a human?"

At her question, Bill stopped. He couldn't figure out why she would ask that at first, but the more he thought about Abel, the more he understood. That must have been the only kind of ixodida Ellen had seen, and he must have been an anomaly. It made sense, though. After all, it explained why she was so afraid of him. With his mind lingering on Abel, Bill pictured the creature, how he readily attacked everything in his path, how he communicated in grunts and half-words...

...How he looked when an entire hunting party shot volleys of bullets through him.

Shuddering, Bill nodded and spoke softer than he meant. "Yes, I do."

"You poor thing!" Ellen breathed as she reached up to brush his forehead. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could do something to help you, but..."

She shook her head, reached over to the table, and removed the lid on the bowl. Immediately, the room filled up with a smell Bill couldn't place. It wasn't entirely unpleasant to him, but something about it seemed wrong. Whatever it was, it was a metallic scent, almost like copper, and that overlaid the smell of something sweet. His stomach rumbled as soon as he picked up on the odor, and he curled his toes and clenched his teeth through the hunger pangs that suddenly hit him. All at once, he came to the realization that he hadn't eaten anything since he awoke in Polaris, and he wondered if anyone tried to feed him during his transformation.

"Let me take care of you at the very least. I can tell you're hungry," Ellen said softly. "Here. Eat this."

She picked up the spoon and brought part of the bowl's contents to Bill's mouth. He glanced at it, noticing it was something red in an equally red broth. Yet he was too hungry to ask what it was. Instead, he just opened his mouth and took the bite.

Only then did he realize four things. First, the soup was actually stone cold, as if it had been chilled instead of cooked. Second, the broth was actually salty and viscous, and it had the distinct taste of something bloody. Third, the red chunk was chewy and tough. It took him a few more seconds to come to the fourth and final realization: he was eating raw meat.

He would have choked on it right then if he hadn't felt his jaw and throat go numb. At that point, he felt the alien's presence in his head, forcing him to swallow the morsel instead of spit it back up.

_What are you doing?_ it drawled. _Do not be so rude as to refuse the kindness of a stranger, especially if she so kindly gave us exactly what our body needs._

Bill stared straight ahead, unable to look at the jewel in his chest. _We... what?_

_Yes. My kind consumes the flesh of the recently dead. What else did you think we eat? Is it not your specialty to analyze the body structure of a pokémon and understand from that how it behaves? Think, Bill! Claws! Fangs! A tongue specially designed to be inserted into small wounds! What else is our body built for other than the hunt?_

"Is something wrong?"

Bill snapped out of his daze to look at the nurse. She already had another spoonful ready.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

He tried to force himself to speak, but instead, he nodded and took the next spoonful. Inside, he felt Adam watching him carefully.

_This is wrong,_ he thought.

_How different is it to what a human normally eats?_ Adam asked. _We need to recover our strength. Eat._

There was a variety of things Bill wanted to do: struggle, scream, cry, plead Ellen to stop. No matter how much he tried, however, Adam kept him quiet and compliant. Yet, at the same time, he felt strange. With each bite, he felt a sense of satisfaction, like he was eating the most fulfilling stew he ever had. He wanted so much to shudder at the thought, but he was trapped. Adam was in his head, and as a result, although the parasite didn't think of anything coherent right at that moment, it held every part of his body like a puppeteer.

_Oh gods!_ he thought. _What's happening to me?_

He could feel himself slip inward, recoiling at the weight of what had been dumped on him for the past two days. It wasn't enough to wake up as something other than a human. Oh, no. He was sharing a body with an alien, that alien could invade his mind whenever it felt like it, he was transported to Hoenn, people kept attacking him, he was being force-fed raw meat, and to top it all off, he almost liked it. His body started to go numb. All he wanted to do was sink down into himself for awhile, if only to figure out how to process everything. Yet, part of him didn't want it, didn't want to process it or let it be his life.

_No!_

Bill felt something wrap around his mind, like an invisible hand seized it and pulled it back to the surface. The numb feeling gave way to small, stabbing pains all over his body.

_You will not,_ Adam hissed. _Did you already forget our deal? This is our life now. You must be strong and embrace it. You have no choice._

_I can't,_ he replied. _I just can't._

_It will only be too much for you to handle if you let it be. Remember, I know your memories. You studied the monsters you call pokémon by donning their skins, did you not? This is a new skin for you to wear. Let your mind adapt to fit your form. You can, Bill. You have done so before._

Bill closed his eyes. It was hard to force him to want this. The experience felt too natural, as if at any second, he'd slip away from being human and right into becoming an alien. In his heart, the possibility of forgetting himself felt cold and dark, and when he imagined it, he could only think of a hole. He wasn't sure if he would be able to climb back out and come back to being human if he fell into something like that.

Then again, although the things Adam said didn't remotely quell his fear of losing his humanity, the parasite had a point. Bill had done this before. He could maintain control of himself if he tried. All he had to do was treat it like his experiences wearing costumes for his research: see the world through Adam's eyes but always remain conscious of what was under the synthetic frame. After all, what was the difference between wearing a pokémon costume and this other than the fact that the costumes had a switch or a button to press to turn him back into a human? Wasn't this just a costume he had to wear for a while longer? If there was a way to turn him into that monster, there must have been a way to turn him back.

Either way, Bill was, in his heart, always a human, and no matter what he had to do, that truth was still there. That was the last realization to dawn on him, and it lingered in his mind for awhile as he mulled it over. He was always a human inside. With any changes that happened to his physical body, he would just have to adapt. He didn't have a choice right now, did he? If he was transformed into a pidgey, he would still have to eat insects to sustain himself, and he would be perfectly all right with that idea. Besides that, he would have gladly eaten raw fish and shrimp in the kabuto costume for the sake of realism. What made this any different?

Somehow, that thought, as crazy as part of him knew it was, made him relax a little more. It was then that he realized Adam had given him control of his body again, and more importantly, he remembered Ellen was trying to feed him. Currently, his mouth was clamped tightly onto the spoon, and Ellen was tugging gently with a shaking hand.

"Um," she murmured.

He released and gasped. Quickly, Ellen withdrew and put the spoon back in the half-empty bowl.

"I'm terribly sorry," he said.

As if she didn't hear him, she continued, "Maybe we should try this again later. It's clear that you're not entirely comfortable with this."

Bill looked away and tugged on the handcuffs. He wanted to say something to reassure her he was harmless, but he had a feeling that it wouldn't stop her from shaking. Not to mention the handcuffs and chains blocked any plans he might have had.

"Could you let me go?" he asked quietly.

Ellen put the cover on the bowl. "I'm sorry. I can't."

"I promise you I won't hurt you."

She smiled weakly at him. "I believe you, but I don't have the keys."

"Oh. That... that would be a problem."

Gently, Ellen reached down to place a hand on the side of his face. Looking into his eyes, she tried to think of a way to tell him she would do everything she could to free him, but before she could get a word out of her mouth, something else caught her attention. Her hand nudged the side of his face until Bill shifted his head.

"What?" he asked.

"Your bruise is gone," she told him.

"My bruise?"

She nodded. "When Officer Jenny brought you in, there was a large bruise on the side of your face. It's not there anymore."

He blinked, struggling to remember why he would have a bruise in the first place, let alone how one might have disappeared apparently overnight.

_The circumstances are inconsequential,_ Adam told him. _The results, meanwhile, are those of another gift I have given you._

Bill tried to process those words. He was about to ask Adam about the gift, but as quickly as the parasite spoke, it retreated, skirting around Bill's mental grasp. All he could do was stare at Ellen as she sat on the edge of the bed. Her eyes remained steady on Bill's tail as she gathered her thoughts.

"I'm sorry about all of this," she said. "I'm sure if they knew you were human inside..." Her eyes trailed to his face. "You must have gone through a lot. The people here are good. It's just... it's really what the other ixodida did to this city."

Bill hesitated. The memory of Abel flashed in his mind again, but this time, he tried not to think about the part where his fellow victim was killed. Instead, he tried to think of the way the electric-type acted. Sure, Abel was feral, but all he was doing was trying to escape... right? He had every right to lash out at his attackers because he was a prisoner.

Even then, it occurred to Bill at that point that he couldn't quite understand what Project Stardust was for, despite all those months at Polaris. Why was there a quarantine? Why was Ellen so afraid of him? Why did the people of Mauville attack him? Could there have been something else the ixodida had done besides transform humans and try to escape? It didn't make sense to Bill. There was something missing in the equation.

Finally, he asked, "What happened?"

"They destroyed our city and killed most of our people," a new voice replied.

Ellen jumped to her feet and swiveled around on her heels to face the door. Only a few feet away, Officer Jenny leaned against the door frame with her arms crossed.

"The guard's spotted several poison-types trying to cross the city from the west. Hunters are dealing with them, but we lost track of two. Be alert," she said, just before looking at her prisoner. "And who the hell took off the tape?"

Chansey happily waved the scissors above her head and trilled.

Scowling, Jenny took one look at her and growled, "Great. You're lucky that thing hasn't stabbed you both yet."

Ellen stiffened. "He hasn't. What does that tell you?"

"That it's plotting something."

"I beg your pardon?" Bill snapped. He couldn't really help it. Being chained to the bed put him in a less-than-comfortable mood as it was, and being talked about as if he was pure evil really didn't help matters. "Officer, I assure you-"

She glared at him. "So, I wasn't dreaming before."

Swiftly, she stepped forward until she stood beside the bed. Bill's indignant expression gave way to wide, frightened eyes as the police officer's hand grasped his neck. Right away, Ellen darted to Jenny's side and grabbed her arm.

"Veronica!" she screamed.

Jenny's eyes narrowed. "I'm just coaxing it to tell us what we need to know. You! Ixodida! Did you lead them here?"

Unable to force his tongue to work, Bill stared at Jenny for awhile. When several seconds passed, he felt her hand tighten around his neck.

"Answer me!" she barked.

His head turned. He intended on shaking it in response, but as soon as he moved, Jenny recoiled with a shriek. Bill cringed at both the sound and the sharp, metallic scent of blood. Opening an eye, he watched Jenny show her shaking hands to Ellen.

"It cut me!" she yelled. "The bastard cut me!"

"You were choking him. Didn't you see the plates on the sides of his neck?" She sighed and examined her friend's hand. "Chansey, go get disinfectant, lidocaine, and a clean suture kit. This looks deep."

The pink pokémon saluted and waddled towards the door. Before she could get there, however, a chubby, blond man skidded to a halt in front of her.

"Officer!" he yelled. "Just heard over the radio! The guards got wiped out by the two missing ixodida! They're headed this way!"


	11. Ten: Violence

**Anima Ex Machina: Ten  
Violence is a last resort.**

Bill was hard-pressed to recall any situation that was more awkward than the one he was in right then. It had been some time since Officer Jenny ordered the pudgy man at the door – who never did reveal his name – to unchain Bill and lead him downtown for negotiations. This involved unchaining Bill, naturally, but it also involved using the chains as a collar and leash to lead him down the empty streets of Mauville City.

Needless to say, Bill tried to focus more on the fact that the streets were empty than his current state.

Mauville reminded him a little of Goldenrod City. It looked modern on the surface, but it had a sort of old-city charm underneath that. Both sides of each wide street were lined with brick buildings. Some of these were apartments with revolving, glass doors shaded by weather-beaten awnings. Others were stores with windows full of colorful displays.

However, the difference between this place and where Bill grew up – a difference that made his heart feel chilled – was that this place was practically a ghost town. Technically, it wasn't _completely_ empty; Bill could catch the scraping sound of people moving on rooftops around him. It was just that the only soul on the street at that moment besides himself was the man leading him down the road, and even he subsequently dashed for a hiding spot as soon as the end of the chain was securely locked around a lamp post.

Ignoring this form of company, Bill could tell that there hadn't been crowds on that street for some time. On closer inspection along the way, he had noticed that all of the store displays were coated with thick dust that gave every color a grayish tint. The garbage cans didn't even smell like something was rotting in them – as if there wasn't anything left to rot at all. Most of all, the place was quiet: extremely quiet, like the entire city block was gone. He couldn't even hear the buzz of electricity or the hum of traffic in the distance.

Leaning against the lamp post, he waited. He couldn't quite tell what time it was, but the sun hung halfway between the earth and its zenith. For awhile, he watched the shadows by his feet elongate while he wondered what the humans wanted him to do.

_How boring. I hope you were not planning on remaining here for much longer, Bill._

At the voice, Bill jolted back into reality. "Adam!"

_Did you expect anyone else? Tell me, human, what is your plan?_

"Plan?"

_To escape, of course. We have things to do. We cannot be chained here forever._

"Are you insane?" Bill whispered. "We can't escape!"

_Why? Are you concerned about breaking the chain? I could give you the ability to do so._

"That isn't the problem."

_Then what is?_

Bill looked up, scanning the rooftops. Catching sight of the corner of a shadow, he turned towards it and leaned back a little.

"Do you see that figure on the roof?"

_I can see it through your eyes._

Shaking off the creeping shiver he got from that statement, Bill frowned. "That man is carrying a gun."

_A gun?_

Balling his hand into a fist, Bill carefully used the back of his wrist to rub the bridge of his nose. He was starting to get a headache, but the last thing he wanted was to put out his own eyes.

"Guns," he said. "They're weapons that can kill us both from a distance by firing lead projectiles at us at high velocities."

_How primitive._

It occurred to Bill right then that he knew next to nothing about Adam or the rest of his species. He knew that they apparently began appearing around the crater outside of Fortree City in Hoenn, and from that, he guessed that they were extraterrestrial in origin. Other than that and what little data Project Stardust gathered about the way they functioned, he knew nothing. He didn't know where they actually came from, let alone how they lived before coming to Earth or what they could do or, if they were as sapient as Adam was implying, what kind of technology they used. Adam's comment right then sent an electric shock to his brain – a shock that made him realize he was dealing with something that most likely was far more advanced than he had originally believed.

"Adam," he said, "what did-"

Suddenly, a howl rose in the air. He felt his nerves prickle under his metal armor, and instinctively, he crouched.

"What was that?" he whispered.

_One of us, I should think,_ Adam replied. _Prepare yourself, Bill. We will need to treat this delicately._

"What do you mean by that?" Bill asked.

Before the parasite could say a word, the howling grew close. In front of him, Bill could see a pair of purple blurs streak towards him. Yelping, he scrambled to run away, but he got no further than a few feet from the post before the chain yanked at his neck. He choked and grabbed it, holding it taut. Although he knew it was locked, he still pulled at it, hoping it would somehow come undone.

A purple hand grasped the chain. Stopping short, Bill felt his breath catch in his throat. Cautiously, he turned his head to find that the purple blurs had stopped, and both of them were standing uncomfortably close to him.

As far as he could tell, both of the creatures must have been teenagers when they transformed. They looked about as young as he was, with smooth, round faces and wide eyes. The long, purple quills all over their bodies rose and fell as they leaned in to study him, and their tails, both ending in spike-studded balls, waved like the tails of two content dogs. One of them – female, as far as Bill could tell from the chest – ran long fingers along his tail to find the arrowhead. The other, a male, looked down but kept his own hand on the chain.

"Monarch," she whispered. "Tail. Look."

She pulled Bill's tail closer to the male. He blinked and glanced at the tip between her fingers. Then, before Bill could struggle to get away, the male put his hands on Bill's shoulders and gently pushed him downward.

"H-hey!" Bill cried. "What are you-"

He couldn't finish. His mouth immediately closed, and he could only watch as the male touched his nose to one of Bill's horns.

_Stay calm,_ Adam said. _This is how the drones of my species identify a monarch._

Bill glanced upward, as if Adam was above him. _Monarch?_

_ I have no time to explain it to you now. Listen very carefully, Bill. These drones will free you. Once they do, follow my instructions exactly, and do not question me. Understood?_

The female growled, "Chain."

With a grunt, the male lifted a hand. His claws began to glow bright violet, and with a quick swipe, it sliced cleanly through the metal links. The ends of the chain clattered against two metallic surfaces.

Right then, Bill found he could speak again.

"Thank you," he said.

Both of the creatures bowed. The female took several steps and lifted her eyes to the sky. Bill wondered if she already knew about the people on the rooftops. He opened his mouth to ask her a question when all of a sudden, a shot rang out. There was a burst of blood, and the female fell onto her back with blood spurting out of a gunshot wound in the side of her head.

Bill felt his throat constrict, not just from the shock of the site but also from the gravity of the realization that just hit him.

_Bait. They were using me as bait!_

Adam stirred. _Bill, the other one!_

Looking up, Bill watched as the male dashed for one of the buildings. Bounding upwards, the poison-type sank his claws into the structure's brick facade and began climbing towards the roof.

"No!" Bill yelled. "Wait!"

More shots filled the air, forcing Bill to duck and take cover in a the building's doorway. Glancing back towards the street, he froze.

What he thought was the corpse of the female sat up. Bullets hit her, biting off parts of her body little by little. Her shoulder was ripped open. Several holes went right through her torso. Parts of her brain were exposed to the open air, and some parts of it were ripped completely out of her skull. Yet, she still stared at Bill with the same expressionless face, and keeping her wide, blank eyes on him, she stood without a problem.

Sinking to the ground, Bill felt his mind go completely blank. He couldn't think of a single thing right then except for the thought that he really wanted to scream.

_Change your expression._

He kept his eyes on the female. His entire body felt numb, not because he was losing control but instead because he couldn't sense anything else but the image of the girl with her brains in full view. He had no idea Adam was trying to communicate with him.

_Bill. I gave you an order. Change your expression._

Closing his mouth, Bill tried to push himself backwards. His body shook as the girl knelt in front of him and stared with her wide eyes.

_Bill. Listen to me. Humans express their emotions on their faces. My kind does it by other means. A human who has recently become a drone struggles with transitioning from one mode of expression to another, but a monarch is in control of their body language at all times._

"What?" The word stumbled out of Bill's mouth so softly he almost believed he had imagined he said it.

_You are putting us in danger by staring at her the way you are! Change your expression!_

Although Bill heard him, he couldn't comply. All he could do was continue to stare at the girl as she reached down and grabbed his chin. He felt her slick, cold fingers grasp his face tightly. Her claws stung his skin.

"Rogue," she rasped.

_She knows._

Bill couldn't make sense of either voice – the girl's or Adam's. His eyes fell on the female's free hand as she drew it back. She pressed her fingers together, each one glowing with a bright, violet glow. Then, her arm shot forward, aiming directly for the red jewel in Bill's chest.

Acting on its own orders, Bill's hand reached up to grab the drone's wrist just before the strike connected. Suddenly, Bill's expression blanked, and at the same time, he felt himself slip backwards and his entire body go numb.

"Bill," Adam said, using his mouth, "I want you to watch what I do. Let this be a learning experience."

Then, the parasite bent the girl's arm until it snapped. It kicked her backwards into the street, and as soon as she landed, she shrieked and grasped her broken arm frantically. Adam rose from where it sat and walked forward. It extended one of its hands, spreading its claws to prepare for a strike. Each finger took on a white glow as the muscles tensed to the point where it felt like all that existed in that appendage was pure steel.

Above them, Bill could hear the male's shriek, but whereas he would have reacted a second too late, Adam twisted and thrust the glowing hand upwards. The male fell, intending on ambushing Adam, but before he could so much as plant a claw on the steel-type, its glowing claws stabbed into his stomach. Turning, Adam threw its victim back into the street, letting him slam into the pavement. The female bent over him and whimpered as he curled on his side.

"Lesson one," Adam said. "When engaged in battle, always be aware of your surroundings."

The shots stopped abruptly. At the edges of its field of vision, Adam could see the humans on the rooftops lowering their guns and stepping closer to the edge, their faces frozen in wide-eyed wonder. Right then, the female rose and lifted her arms in front of her. Each quill that ran along her forearms stood and pointed themselves at Adam. Calmly, it turned its head back towards her and shielded its face with its own arms. For a second time, Bill sensed that the muscles of his body tensed as his skin began to glow with a white light. Pins shot from the female's arms and struck Adam's with a volley of clinks; not a single one of them pierced its armor.

Behind it, Adam's tail stiffened and began to glow. As soon as the attack finished, it lunged forward, crouched, and spun. Its tail whipped around it and sliced cleanly through the girl's legs halfway down her thighs. The rest of her body smacked back into the pavement and fell still, her mouth open in death. Meanwhile, one of her amputated legs twitched. Adam bent down to pick it up.

"Lesson two," it said, "locate and destroy the core. The core is our source of life. Our host may be decapitated, and we can still control its body to fulfill our needs. However, if the core is broken, we die."

It turned the leg over and found the female's crimson jewel embedded in her heel. Adam's fingers dug into the flesh surrounding it, cutting through the spindly threads that anchored the parasite to its host. With a rip, Adam yanked the creature free from the leg. The parasite squealed and thrashed its tentacles as the rest of the leg was tossed onto the girl's body. Adam held it up, studying it for a few seconds. Then, metal fingers gripped the parasite in a palm until its exoskeleton cracked. The squealing abruptly stopped, and the red body flashed several times before bursting in a splash of blood and acid. Opening its hand, Adam licked the liquid off its palm.

Without warning, a purple arm wrapped around his shoulders. Another hand lashed forward, its claws ripping across the exposed flesh of Adam's throat. The steel-type rasped, feeling the blood run from its neck and the cut in his windpipe.

_Taking advantage of my distraction. Using Slash instead of a venomous move,_ Adam thought. _This one is intelligent. However..._

It reached over its shoulder. The five claws on its hand began to glow white again. Taking notice, the male grabbed Adam's hand and wrapped his tail around its waist. Adam struggled to free its wrist, but the male held on with a crushing grip. For that reason, the glow faded before Adam could do anything with his second Metal Claw.

But then, it stabbed the male through the shoulder with the arrowhead tip of its glowing tail. Instantly, the parasite on the poison-type's back burst, and the creature shuttered. Withdrawing its tail, Adam pulled itself free from the man's weakened grip. It looked at the infected human as he dropped to his knees. Bringing a hand to its throat, Adam felt the wound across it heal, and with that, it coughed.

_If he wanted to cripple me, he would have broken my horns,_ Adam continued.

It finished its victim off by whipping its tail through his neck. The man's head fell off his shoulders with a thud, and the rest of the body collapsed sideways.

Walking into the middle of the street, Adam looked towards the rooftops. Every single human stood there, still as people in a photograph. A few of them still held guns, but these remained at their sides. Adam had nothing to say to them.

"No contest."

Turning its head towards the whisper, Adam caught sight of three familiar faces. The first was the chubby man who had led Bill to that spot, and the second and third were Officer Jenny and Ellen. All three of them were standing at a street corner several feet away, but although Jenny whispered, the place was silent enough for Adam to hear her voice.

"Two ixodida in less than ten minutes. I... I don't believe it."

_Bill, take over,_ Adam thought. _They do not intend on attacking us, and I have spent too long outside as it is._

There was no answer.

_Bill?_

Still, there was silence.

Jenny started forward. Her face was pale, and her movements were sluggish, as if someone had sapped all her energy. Without a word to her, Adam turned away, dropped to all fours, and started running.


	12. Eleven: Checkmate

**Author's Note:  
**Normally, I don't like putting lengthy explanations at the beginning of a chapter because you came here to read the fic, right? But I felt like I wanted to apologize for anyone who might've been following this fic. Not even sure who does, but hey. The point is, I keep neglecting the FFNet version of this fic, and there's really no reason for it (especially since I actually do have time to write more material and all). So we're going to try this again. I'm going to post as many chapters as I've got, and when that's over, I'm going to keep posting chapters here. Why? Because ultimately, I miss this place, and anyway, it's rather silly to have this version hanging out but only half its chapters up.

And if I manage to screw this up and fail at posting for months at a time again, feel free to punch me via PM or something.

* * *

**Anima Ex Machina: Eleven  
In life, unlike chess, the game continues after checkmate.**

A young woman stood on the edge of a cliff enveloped in fog. The fog wasn't so much the byproduct of the area as it was the result of her presence: fog emitted in wisps from her indigo skin while dark purple clouds shrouded most of her body. Her eyes glowed with a soft, blue light as she gazed through the mist.

Suddenly, she gasped and shivered, and the glow faded from her eyes.

Behind her something stirred. "My lady?"

Looking over her shoulder, she made out the silhouette of a second ixodida standing a few feet away.

"I sense a rogue on this island," she said.

"Does that worry you?" the male replied. "It is not wise to concern yourself so much with something like that. We have identified multiple rogues on this planet, and all of them are weak. It is the mind of this world's dominant species, my lady. While it may be intelligent, it lacks the ability to adapt to the transitional process. Many of them will die shortly after creation, and those few that survive will either lack the power to be considered a threat or be killed by their own follies."

"You underestimate the earthlings," she replied. "Besides, this may not be any ordinary rogue. I feel its presence already. Whatever it is, I sense that it may be powerful and clever. It killed two of Venom Clan's drones and disappeared..." She narrowed her eyes. "...as if it was mocking me."

The other ixodida straightened. "My lady, the likelihood that we fell to the same planet as-"

"Nonetheless," the woman interrupted, "please investigate it. I will not rest well until I know for sure what this rogue is."

Without further questioning, the other ixodida bowed. "Yes, my lady. It will be done."

Straightening, he turned and walked away from her. She waited for awhile until she heard the buzz of his departure. Then, she lifted a hand and glanced at the pink silk lotus she held in her palm.

"If you did indeed follow us to this planet-" She gripped the flower in her hand. "-then for the sake of our kind, I will not allow you to live."

Adam entered the gray forest easily. For its kind, it wasn't difficult at all to access a host's mind. After all, the ixodida and their hosts were one being. Everything that was part of the host was also a part of the parasite. So, everything that Bill's brain contained was just a casual thought away for Adam, even the parts that Bill himself had long ago buried in his subconscious.

Technically, the same relationship existed in reverse. Everything that was contained within Adam's mind could just as easily be accessible to its hosts as their mind was to it; the host just needed to be willing to explore. This openness was most of the reason why Adam's kind typically overwhelmed and trapped the host's mind within itself upon infection, but there were certain advantages, as Adam had discovered long before coming to Earth, to having multiple minds in one body. Amusement, for one. Although Adam hoped that Bill would never discover that the link between them went both ways, the parasite was already making a game out of seeing how long it would take for one of the brightest minds humanity could offer to figure the ixodida out.

However, every human had its fair share of weaknesses, and Bill's were beginning to test his parasite's patience.

Adam found its host sitting against a tree. His arms were resting on his knees, and his face was buried in them. He didn't say anything. He didn't even move.

"It would be a problem if you have already broken after witnessing your first real battle," Adam drawled. "I would need to find a new host, and I have no doubt you would die wherever I left you, either from the gaping wound in your chest I would leave behind or the fact that the tentacles I have planted all over your body would secrete acids to liquify all your internal organs in a matter of hours."

Still, there was no response.

"Get up," Adam said.

Silence.

"Bill. Get up."

After awhile, Bill shook his head and whispered, "That girl... I don't understand..."

It wasn't a question, but Adam knew from their bond what Bill was trying to say. The most unfortunate side to humanity was, quite simply, the fact that the human brain frequently failed to process whatever was well outside of their normal understanding of the world. For example, on Earth, getting shot multiple times in the head killed a person. The dead did not get up and walk. People were not normally dismembered in broad daylight. A rational human who previously claimed to be a pacifist did not rip another living being apart with his own bare hands. All four facts combined left Bill, despite all his intellectual abilities, overwhelmed to the point where his brain shut down. He was no more useful, therefore, than a mumbling idiot.

Knowing this, Adam's answer was quick.

"I did nothing that was not necessary for our survival."

Bill clenched his fists. Evidently to Adam, that wasn't what he wanted to hear. "Did you kill her?"

The question didn't surprise Adam. In fact, it knew Bill would eventually ask, just because he was human. What surprised Adam was the fact that the question came clearly, even though Bill could barely process a thing just a few seconds ago. The human was recovering – or had decided to recover a long time ago. A part of Adam felt relieved, if only because Bill's ability to grab onto whatever sounded like sanity and climb back up made things easier. Not much easier, but at least Adam didn't have to explain the basics again.

"It was necessary, Bill," it said. "She intended to kill us."

"A-and the other one?"

"Necessary as well."

"Oh gods..."

Bill turned his head and covered his eyes with a hand. For a while, Adam simply watched him, waiting for him to look at it. When that never happened, Adam flexed its fingers, each joint clacking with irritation.

"You cannot face my kind with the fear you displayed before our battle," Adam said. "The second you hesitate, our enemies will rip you apart, and I mean that literally. That female may have been weak against us, but she still possessed the ability to tear us limb from limb if we did not defend ourselves. Imagine what will happen if a stronger member of my kind encountered us."

Still, Bill said nothing. After a moment of this silence, Adam lashed one of its hands downward. Bill felt a metal hand grab his hair and yank it, pulling his head backwards. With another hand, Adam grabbed its host by the neck, pulled him to his feet, and pinned him to the tree behind him.

"Human, are you listening to me?" it asked.

Bill glared at Adam. His eyes were red and wet.

Flicking its tail, Adam tilted its head. "Are you mourning the deaths of our enemies?"

"I don't want to be a murderer," Bill mumbled.

Adam's tail flicked again, this time kicking up dirt behind the parasite as it leaned close to Bill. "What was that, human?"

"They're just like me, aren't they?" Bill said. "They're... they're just victims. We need to help them, not kill them."

"Even if they wish to kill us?"

"No. That's you... isn't it? That's why that girl could get back up, and that's why she attacked us. The ixodida. They're controlling us, ar-"

Adam threw him across the clearing. He slammed into the ground, yelping as pain shot up the arm he had landed on. Unfortunately for him, he had no time to think about it. Adam was on top of him a second later, hands pinning Bill's shoulders to the ground and tail wrapped around his legs.

"Perhaps they are, but not one of those hosts have the power to reject my kind. More importantly, most of my brethren would try to kill us instantly if they knew what we were. Did you hear that female call you a rogue? Do you know what a rogue is? It is nothing more than an ixodida who defies the natural order of our species. They are anomalies, and if they threaten to disrupt our survival as a whole, then every member of our species will do everything they can to eradicate us. You are no friend to the ixodida, Bill, just because you exist."

Although Bill's expression faltered, revealing a flash of uncertainty, it was erased in seconds by a glare of determination.

"So, you want me to be a traitor as well as a murderer?" he snapped.

"No," Adam replied. "I want you to fight."

"I'm sorry, but I can't. I can't kill another living being, and I certainly don't want to have anything to do with threatening the existence of an entire species."

"Our contract, Bill. The consequence of violating it is death."

"_Kill me, if it means that much to you!_"

The words echoed throughout the forest. Bill was shocked he had even said them, and because of that, he stared at Adam with a blank expression. Of course he was terrified of the thing pinning him to the ground – or whatever it might be doing to make him feel as if he was being pinned – but right then, for the first time in his life, he felt enough motivation to fail at caring. He knew he was most likely about to die, but he took a certain pleasure in the idea that if he did, he would at least go out with as clean a conscience as he could get.

So, when Adam lifted a hand, Bill did nothing to stop it. Just as the claws on the parasite's fingers began to glow silver, he closed his eyes and waited. Any second, he knew everything would be over.

The blow never came.

Opening one eye, Bill realized that the glow had dissipated. Adam's claws lowered, and it carefully pulled away.

"In all my travels across this galaxy, I have never met a creature with such open audacity," it said as it stood. "You humans may be weak, but you are at least... interesting."

Bill sat up. "I... uh. Thank you?"

Adam scoffed and turned away. "If you will not fight to defend yourself, fight for the sake of humanity, then."

Any confusion Bill had over what just transpired immediately vanished. Keeping his eyes on Adam, he furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"This city is empty for a reason," Adam replied. "Something is compelling the ixodida to attack humans. I feel that the purpose of this goes far beyond just survival. I can sense it, but I cannot pinpoint its source." It looked over its shoulder. "That was your area of expertise, was it not? Deciphering why a pokémon acts the way it does? I can only wonder how long it will take you to figure it out – how many people will die while you stand by and simply observe."

Hastily, Bill scrambled to his feet. He held his sore arm with one hand as he stared at Adam's back. For the second time in their conversation, Bill remained silent, waiting for Adam to continue. This time, it wasn't out of defiance. Rather, it was out of the fact that he had no idea what to say.

Meanwhile, Adam began walking away, into the forest. "I have given you the power to protect your kind. Everything you could ever need is now within you. You simply need the will to use it. Think about it, Bill."

With that, Adam disappeared beyond the trees, leaving Bill alone in the clearing. Backing up, Bill found the nearest trunk and leaned against the bark. He closed his eyes, his mind sifting through everything Adam had just told him. Him? Defend humanity? He couldn't possibly... could he? As far as he was concerned, his only purpose in life was to stand back and observe. He was a researcher, a source of information – someone to help the plot along at the very most, if he compared his life to a story. Naturally, he would be more than happy to help a hero, but to be cast into that role himself? He just didn't think he was born for that kind of duty.

With this in mind, he opened his eyes, expecting to see more of the gray forest.

* * *

What he saw instead was the sideways view of an empty room. Blinking, it took him a moment to realize he was actually lying flat on his stomach on a hard floor. He groaned and flipped over, bringing a hand to his head. The sharp scent of blood filled the air, and he gasped and pulled his hand away from his face.

His vision was monochrome. At first, he couldn't tell why, but after a second, the dark background and the sharpness of every light tone around him – namely, the tones of his hand – caused something to click in his head. Night vision. It had to be.

Of course, at that moment, he didn't bother searching for Adam to get a confirmation. That was the least of his concerns, after all.

Evidently, Adam was kind enough to lick most of the blood off his claws before he awoke, but despite that and the fact that Bill could only see in a limited spectrum of colors, he still caught dark patches on his joints and at the tip of each claw. His hand shook as he stared. The patches were dry and crusty, with some parts flaking off each time he moved a finger. As a result, his joints felt stiff and dirty.

He couldn't remember most of the battle, but one image kept coming to mind: the girl. Her brains exposed. Her body rising up and lurching towards him. Her expression blank. Her mouth open. Her eyes dead...

Bill closed his hand. _Don't think about that._

Breathing in, he meditated. The girl was dead. There was nothing he could do about it. Yes, it was alarming, but he had to maintain his composure. He knew it wouldn't be the last time he would see a zombie-alien-girl getting-

_Don't think about that!_

Sitting up, Bill shook his head and buried his face in his palms. His entire body was trembling.

_I can't do this. I just can't. There's no possible way I can._

Moving his hands from his face, Bill pushed off the floor and stood.

_I'm not a fighter. I'm not a killer. What do I do now? ...What is that smell?_

His tail whipped back and forth behind his legs. Each joint along it felt just as stiff as the ones in his hands, and he smelled blood every time he moved it. It even crackled with dried blood flaking off its surface. Wrapping one of his arms with a hand, Bill shifted a foot and placed it gently on the arrowhead tip of his tail to get himself to stop moving it. The entire appendage tingled, and a sharp pain radiated from its base. Yelping, he let go, and his tail went back to wagging behind him.

"Water," he murmured as he held his head. "I need to clean myself up. Then, maybe I'll be able to think straight. Where can I get water?"

Looking around, he took in more of the room. It was, for the most part, empty. A bench sat on one side, and along the walls, a balcony hung. Other than that, there was nothing interesting about the space except the markings on the floor: a large rectangle with boxes attached to the shorter ends.

_A battlefield,_ Bill thought. _Why on Earth did Adam bring me here?_

As expected, he got no response from the parasite. Sighing, Bill gave up on trying to contact the parasite and started for a door in the corner of the room. He figured that it was probably better that no conversation happened, given what he had experienced in his dream. Besides, he didn't particularly want to know what Adam was expecting him to do on a battlefield.

Approaching the door, he placed a hand on it. It occurred to him that the door seemed a little unusual. It was made of metal, and by the sound it made when he knocked on it, it was thick. Yet, to make matters even more interesting for him, there was no doorknob or door handle, and it didn't budge when he pushed it. Looking up, he tried to find a window large enough for him to fit through or another door, but there was nothing around him except that single entrance.

He furrowed his eyebrows as a single thought entered his mind. _How did I get in here if I can't get out?_

Briefly, the idea of shouting for help crossed his mind, but then, two problems occurred to him. First, he had no idea if anyone was actually within earshot. Second, he didn't want to know what would happen if someone found him like that, what with the way that his body looked at that moment and the fact that he was covered in blood. Backing up, he fixed his eyes on the door. If calling for help wasn't an option, he had no other choice.

_What attacks do I know?_ he asked himself.

Raising his claws, he concentrated. One of the attacks in his head had to do with them. That much he knew. But how was he supposed to use it?

Breathing out, he pulled back his hand. He supposed he had nothing to lose when it came to experimenting. As far as he could tell, after all, he wasn't about to use Explosion or something like it, so what was the worst that could happen?

Swinging his arm, he brought his claws across the metal door. Scratch. It was a basic attack for most pokémon, so it didn't surprise him that this was what he had in his arsenal so far. What actually surprised him, though, was the fact that the second his claws scraped across the door, the metal underneath them screamed. Crying out, he pulled his hand away, covered his ears, and dropped to his knees. There was still a ringing in his head long after the cause of it stopped.

_Scratching metal on metal. Brilliant idea, Bill,_ he thought.

As if he didn't endure enough pain, the lights suddenly blasted on. Flinching, he felt a wave of pain rush through his head as his eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden light. Even after his vision cleared and his eyes finally picked up color, his head ached from the double assault. Shaking it, he stood and blinked until the pain subsided. Then, he looked up at the source of the lights, the rows of fluorescent lamps in the ceiling.

"Hello?" he called. "Who's there?"

Silence answered him. A cold feeling crept through his body, and he turned back to the door. The sooner he was out, the better, he figured. Reaching for the door, he intended on prying it open, but before he could touch it, it slid apart with a whir. Behind it stood a tall, yellow and white creature. It bared its long fangs as it stared at Bill with glowing, red eyes. Electricity crackled off its muscular body as a tiger's growl rumbled from its maw.

One of the more noteworthy aspects of Johto was the fact that, because the region held a deeper and darker connection to its own folklore than most of the other regions barring maybe Sinnoh, every person who came from there was by default something of an expert in the matter of the regional legendary pokémon. As such, Bill could easily recognize a raikou when he saw one, not because he was a researcher but instead because he had spent a little over half of his life being told the stories about how encountering one would mean the thundering wrath of the gods would be inflicted upon the unwitting traveler shortly afterwards.

Knowing this, Bill immediately took the bravest course of action he could think of: dropping to the floor and screaming.


	13. Twelve: Together

**Author's Note:**  
I just want to say thanks to everyone who offered a warm welcome back. Seriously, you guys are awesome. I really wasn't expecting that kind of response after having been gone for months, so all I can say is it's definitely convincing me to keep posting. XD I'm working hard on editing and getting the next chapters up so this version can finally be caught up with the one on my website and Serebii. After that, you'll be getting completely new material alongside both of those versions. So just bear with me for the next thirteen chapters. It'll go by quickly, I promise!

* * *

**Anima Ex Machina: Twelve  
We're all in this together.**

Bill could feel his heart pounding. It was the kind of pound that practically shook him with each throb, the kind that thumped against his ribcage and felt like it was going to break something. At the same time, his mind was going through a quick succession of emotions.

First came fear. This stage was fairly natural for several reasons. To begin with, there was the fact that the creature right in front of him was at least twice as large as him, and it was equipped with fangs and claws that could have – if Bill had been human - ripped that throbbing heart right out of his chest. Beyond that, there was the fact that Bill knew the stories surrounding Raikou all too well, particularly how it called down massive bolts of lightning from the skies to roast the unworthy where they stood. In Johtonian mythology, the creature was called by several different names relating to this fact: Lord of Storms, Heaven's Thunder, and a number of other ones that would have easily told Bill he wasn't supposed to be standing within its field of vision.

After fear came awe. Bill was most definitely a scientist, and as such, he lacked the sense of caution most normal people had. So, after sitting there in terror for a few seconds, he gradually rose. Rather than run away - which was what a normal, sane, well-adjusted person would have done - he stepped closer. As he crept near the raikou, he realized he wasn't just looking at a rare pokémon. He was looking at the Lord of Storms, one of the creatures that inhabited the ancient, war-torn worlds of Johtonian legends. A part of him also realized what kind of frenzy he would stir in the Symposium if he had a chance to study a raikou thoroughly - if only because he was, after all, a scientist.

Third, however, came something more difficult to describe. His eyes found Raikou's, and in his wonder of how magnificent the creature looked, he felt something nag at the back of his mind. Initially, he thought it was just Adam, but it wormed its way to the front of his consciousness in the form of the kind of instinct he had developed through years of research. Something wasn't right about this creature, and he could tell, even if he didn't know exactly how at first.

Starting from the eyes, he noticed that while they glowed red with an inner light, there was something dull and lifeless about them. The way they glistened reminded him more of glass than of something actually wet, and the light reminded him more of neon signs than power. Once he noticed both points, he listened to the way it was growling at him. Although it sounded realistic at first, he had heard enough recordings of pokémon calls to catch the subtle difference in audio quality. It sounded just slightly muffled, as if it was actually coming from deeper inside the creature than it should have. Then, even though the recording was a high-quality one, what added to the feeling of artificiality was the fact that the creature's posture was all wrong. It stood straight and stiffly instead of crouching and bearing more of its teeth, and its fur was flat instead of on end. No wild pokémon attempting to assert its territory looked that calm, and Bill knew that.

But more importantly than anything else, he was standing in front of the beast for almost a minute, and it didn't so much as spark. If it was growling at him defensively, why wasn't it attacking?

Cracking a grin, Bill reached out and touched the raikou's chest. Squeezing, he felt the plush exterior, and one of his claws wormed its way through the cloth material covering its shoulder. In truth, he felt a little embarrassed. He was used to dealing with artificial pokémon thanks to his costumes, and here, he couldn't even tell the difference between a real raikou and a fake one as soon as he saw it.

"Hey! How'd you know it was fake?"

Yelping, Bill scrambled to turn and run, but in the process, his claws dug deeper into the shoulder of the mechanical beast and ripped a large chunk of it out. Whirling around, Bill stumbled towards the battlefield as his eyes locked onto the newcomer.

Emerging from behind the raikou doll was the same young man who led Bill down the streets of Mauville City on a chain, but this time, he wasn't giving Bill a cold glare. His dark eyes sparkled, and a friendly smile stretched across his round face. Stopping just beside the Raikou doll, he planted his large hands on his wide hips and surveyed the ixodida.

"You're good!" he exclaimed in a deep, rumbling voice. "Most people don't know this isn't the real deal without being told first! How'd you do that?"

"I..." Bill stepped back.

The man's grin faded slightly. "Huh? Oh! You don't have to be nervous or anything. We got off on the wrong foot. That's all, right? You're an all right guy, it turns out, so I won't hurt ya! ...Not that I was going to in the first place, but, uh."

He stopped and glanced at the ceiling for a second. Then, he burst into a loud, booming laughter that echoed off the walls. Bill literally jumped at the sound, and one of his hands flew to his chest. He could feel his heart pounding again, just as much as it had when he first saw Raikou.

"The name's Thomas. Thomas Wattson, but everyone calls me Thom. 'Cept maybe Officer Jenny, but her opinion doesn't count," he said as he extended a hand. "This is my grandpa's gym. His mecha raikou, too, and let me tell you, he would've loved the look on your face when you first saw it!"

Bill stared at the hand. After what happened to Officer Jenny - which, strangely, he wasn't entirely guilty about - he was hesitant to take this man's hand for fear of what he might accidentally do in the process of just a handshake. Luckily, his companion interrupted him before he had any chance to respond anyway.

"You're not much of a talker, are you?" he asked. "That's all right. Hey, listen, why don't we go back to the pokémon center and get you cleaned up? No offense, but you look like hell."

Blinking, Bill looked at his tail as it curled around his ankles. He had forgotten all about the dried blood, but somehow, it didn't seem to matter anymore. This was most likely because Thom decided to cut him off again.

"That was awesome, by the way."

Bill looked up. "I'm sorry?"

"The fight. You know. Between you and those two ixodida. How they jumped you and then POW!" Thom made a fist with one hand and punched the palm of the other. "Both of them are lying in pieces on the ground! Man, we had our doubts about this entire plan. Sorry we tried to use you like that, by the way."

Flicking his tail, Bill realized two things. First, his hunch about how the city was trying to get him killed was correct. Second, they thought of the ixodida as pests. Neither revelation made Bill feel any less awkward than he already had.

"Those were people at one time. Technically, that would make me a murderer," he said quietly.

"Huh?" Thom blinked. "Hey, look. Don't feel too bad. They would've gotten us if you hadn't done something."

"That wasn't the point."

Thom shrugged. "Then what is?"

In response, Bill looked at him with a serious glance. After a beat of hesitation, he replied, "When I transformed into an ixodida, I didn't do it by choice. It was an accident, and I have no doubt it was for the others as well. To make matters even more complicated..."

Stopping, he looked to the side. He had no idea how Thom would react if he told him about Adam. In the ensuing silence, Thom frowned.

"Look, I know that, and I'm sorry." Pausing, Thom lowered his tone. "But those things? They'll kill us if we don't kill them. There's only a few of us left. Officer Jenny says the city's been reduced to less than ten percent of the population it had before the invasion. They're monsters, you know. They're not like you."

Bill closed his eyes and shuddered. He didn't want to say anything more, but he felt he had to get Thom to understand. "They don't have a choice in what they do, either. There's something inside us that makes us act that way. We're stuck in our own minds whenever it happens; we can't control what our bodies do."

Thom furrowed his eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm saying..." Bill looked at Thom as his mind struggled to find the best words. "When you saw me kill those ixodida, that wasn't me. I share my body with the ixodida parasite, and he has the ability to take it over at any time. I can't control what happens when he does." He lowered his head. "We have a deal that allows me to do whatever I'd like, but when that fight occurred, it was the parasite who killed them, not me. I couldn't do anything to stop him. As for the others... they're most likely trapped the way I was all the time."

For a long while, nothing else was said. Bill glanced at Thom with a bit of reluctance, only to find Thom staring at him with curiosity.

"So, let me get this straight," he said. "You're telling me you don't want us to thank you for saving a bunch of innocent people from a couple of bloodthirsty pokémon that would've killed us for reasons the researchers can't figure out yet, and this is because you think that the other ixodida are just people who can't control themselves, and that all somehow justifies the fact that they've wiped out most of our city?"

After a beat of hesitation, Bill replied, "If you put it like that, it sounds uncomfortably complicated, but essentially, yes."

Thom sighed. "Guess I don't have much of a choice. Come on."

He turned and motioned for Bill to follow him. In response, Bill shifted his tail but remained where he was.

"Where?" he asked.

"I wanna show you something," Thom answered.

With that, he disappeared down the hallway. Bill watched him for a short while, uncertain of what to do. Then, he finally started walking.

* * *

Veronica Jenny, formerly a police officer of Mauville City's Central Precinct and more recently the city's chief superintendent, felt like she could have used a stiff drink right then. She didn't used to drink, but after monsters appeared from out of nowhere and reduced the population of the entire city to a mere fraction of what it was for no apparent reason, she thought it would be a nice habit to take up. Veronica had no doubt this and her generally less-than-perky attitude were the only things that set her apart from all her sisters and cousins, but unlike Ellen Joy, she didn't particularly care about that, even before she became a brooding alcoholic.

Then again, Veronica didn't care much about her family at all. The problem with the Jenny clan was that, as far back as anyone could remember and as far back as anyone bothered to trace their family tree, every single female Jenny did two things: protect and serve. There were no exceptions. So everyone expected Veronica would become a police officer as well, simply because she was born into that single family. In that sense, she felt a strong connection with Ellen Joy: the nurse was born into her calling thanks to the Joy family. However, whereas Ellen liked being a nurse and accepted her fate, Veronica was a little less eager to assume her role.

Of course she liked it at first. She used to get a thrill from chasing down bad guys and busting crime all over the city. For a few brief months after she joined the force, it made her proud to see a criminal in handcuffs. But then, the novelty wore off, and Veronica realized that she was forcing herself to enjoy her work because everyone expected her to be a police officer. The trouble was that if she wasn't an officer, what would she be? The word "Jenny" was synonymous with "justice"; no one in the history of the family ever really questioned that.

All of this happened long before the invasion. When the ixodida killed most of Mauville's population, that just aggravated a problem that already existed for years. Now, instead of just being dispassionate about her position, she was incompetent, unable to fulfill her duty to protect the population. She had to watch almost all of the city die because she had no idea how to protect it from the ixodida.

In short, she really needed that drink.

She flexed one of her bandaged hands and walked back to the pokémon center from the police station a block away. Her other hand rested on her belt, three fingers on the poké balls clipped to it and two on the holster of a gun hanging from its side. She knew that the city's scouts reported no other ixodida in the area besides the one who killed the poison-types, and the fact that she was hearing from them at all confirmed this. However, the smooth feel of the spheres on her belt and the weight of her handgun made her feel just a little safer.

The rest of Mauville didn't even need that much. Directly outside of the pokémon center, half of the survivors were gathered. A small group of children were playing with pokémon - mostly oddish, electrike, and zigzagoon. Groups of adults clustered around them, chattering over sandwiches and drinks. Between each group flitted Ellen and her chansey, distributing food and water to whoever wanted them. Looking at her, Veronica noticed an expression on Ellen's face that wasn't there yesterday: a light smile, one that wasn't entirely forced.

That's when Veronica noticed something else about the group: laughter. The children, most of them orphans, hadn't so much as smiled since the ixodida came, but now, they were playing soccer with each other on the street outside of the center. It was their laughter that she noticed first, the screeching sound tingling her ears. The adults, who for the past several months spoke in hushed whispers to one another about whether or not a new wave of ixodida would be coming, were now chattering in louder voices, swapping stories and laughing at the occasional joke. Outside of both circles, Veronica felt a lot like an astronaut in the middle of an alien city. Not a single one of them seemed to notice her as she watched them. Instead, she was left alone to listen to their noise. Was using the captured ixodida as bait a success? Did this mean she wasn't a failure? She couldn't tell.

Suddenly, the adults fell silent, and Veronica caught the sound of low pokémon growls. Snapping out of her meditations, Veronica looked up to notice all of the adults' heads turned towards the street. Glancing in the same direction, she saw Thom standing in the street only a few feet away from her. Next to him was the steel-armored monster, the same one she and the hunting party had found outside of the city and the same one she had watched tear apart two of its own kind.

She couldn't figure out why its expression looked so distant to her.

Thom didn't seem to notice the adults, or if he did, he was completely ignoring them. Keeping his eyes on the children, he smiled broadly and motioned towards them with one of his large hands. The monster was following his gaze, and there it stood, staring at the game.

Eventually, the children began to notice, probably because their pokémon companions were no longer interested in playing with them. One by one, they stopped, eyes falling on the ixodida with a mixture of fear and curiosity. Thanks to their lack of concentration, the ball they were using skirted past one of the goalies and rolled towards the two bystanders. The ixodida knelt, reaching down just in time to stop the ball with one of its hands. At the same time, a small child ran past the others, beyond the hands of the oldest, and straight to the creature. She ignored her friends' harsh whispers to come back and stay away from the thing until she nearly ran into it. Stopping short, she lifted her eyes towards it, and her smile disappeared. The creature looked down at her and blinked.

Drawing in a breath, Veronica stepped forward. Her hand moved to the gun holstered on her hip, but before she drew it, she caught sight of Thom. He was flailing his arms behind the creature almost comically, signaling for her to stop. Although she felt a little hesitant about trusting his judgment — in part because Thom wasn't normally known for making sound choices — she still let her hand rest where it was as she watched the creature carefully.

It didn't attack the way she thought it would. Instead, it picked up the ball and looked at it as if it had never seen a soccer ball before that moment. After a few seconds, it held the ball out for the girl, keeping its claws spread as far as they could go. The girl quickly grabbed the ball, held it to her chest, and bowed.

"Thank you!" she said.

Then, as quickly as it happened, she turned and ran back into the game. The other children closed the gap behind her. Within a few seconds, the sound of the ball being kicked across pavement broke the icy silence, and the children went back to shouting and laughing with each other. Taking this moment as a sign to relax, the adults slowly went back to their own conversations, and the pokémon darted back into the game.

Veronica's hand fell to let her arm rest. Cautiously, she turned to face the children but inched towards the ixodida and Thom. She tried to make it look like she was watching the game with the hopes that it would drive the alien and the gym leader's grandson think she wasn't eavesdropping on them.

"A lot of them don't have parents anymore, you know," Thom said. "A lot of the people in this city died, either protecting us from ixodida attacks or, you know, getting attacked."

"Is that so?" the ixodida said quietly.

"Mmm. Yeah. It's pretty bad. But you're here now, so we think we'll be all right."

There was a beat before the ixodida replied, "How would my presence make a difference?"

"Oh, that's easy. We've tried everything to keep the ixodida from attacking us. Keeping guards posted at all times, ganging up on them when we saw them — you name it. When we first caught you, we thought we could use you to bargain with them. You know, a 'don't kill us because we have one of yours and we'll let him go if you leave us alone' kind of thing, right? But then, you actually killed two of them! By yourself! You did what a lot of us died trying to do — twice!" He paused. "Or, well, you know... that thing did."

"It was a fluke. I told you."

Thom scoffed. "You don't get it, do you? Let me spell this out for you. Over there are a bunch of orphans. Their parents died trying to protect us from aliens that keep attacking us for who-knows-why. You've got the power to help us. You can be a hero to those kids, you know. You already are for some of us."

The ixodida's voice dropped in volume again, almost to the point where Veronica wouldn't have been able to hear it. "I'm not much of a hero, Thom."

Thom growled in frustration. "Bill, I know it sounds like I'm asking you to do a lot, but look at those kids again. What's the first thing that comes to mind when you see them?"

There was a long silence. Veronica turned her head slightly to glance at the ixodida out the corner of her eye. What she saw made her turn her head completely towards him.

Him. She suddenly realized she was thinking of the creature as something more than a monster, but at that point, it just fit. His face looked more human than even some of the survivors'. As he stared at the children, his eyes looked a little misty, and his expression, with the corners of the mouth turned down and his eyebrows furrowed, looked saddened. Veronica felt something twitch inside her, a small pain in her heart. Maybe she was just crazy, but she had a feeling she knew exactly what was going on inside the alien's head.

"The ones to the side over there," he said. "The older ones. How old are they?"

Thom shrugged. "Ten. Eleven. Some of them are trainers who got stuck here 'cause the routes are all closed, and others would've started their journeys a few months ago if the League hadn't frozen Hoenn's circuit."

The ixodida looked down. "I have a sister their age."

"Huh. A sister? She's not in Hoenn, is she?"

Bill didn't answer. Instead, he looked at Thom.

"Okay," he said. "I'll do it."

"Do what?"

Turning towards him, Bill straightened. "Protect them. Protect everyone here. I don't know how well I can fight, but I'll try."

"Are you sure?"

Bill nodded. "I have to. They need someone to help them. If you say I have the power to do it, there's no way I can say no."

Instantly, Thom's face lit up. "Great! Just wait 'til I talk to a few people. We'll get you all set up here with a room of your own and someone to help train you and..."

Thom turned and started walking towards the adults. He hadn't stopped listing off things he would give Bill; he just assumed that the ixodida was following him within earshot. Naturally, he didn't realize that the creature was exactly where he left him, standing on the sidewalk with his tail curling around his feet.

"You heard all that, didn't you, Officer Jenny?" he asked.

Veronica froze. After a few moments, she replied, "How honest are you?"

Bill shook his head. "I'm being completely sincere when I say I want to help you. I don't want to fight, but..." He glanced towards the children.

She sighed. "I'll tell you the truth. I don't trust you, but you haven't tried to kill anything except other ixodida. I can't even begin to understand why. But... we need your help."

"I know that." He closed his eyes. "I know."

His voice was cracking, and his hands, already balled into fists, were shaking at his sides. Inside her own head, Veronica cursed eloquently.

"Nurse Joy's more sympathetic than I am. Sorry," she said. "But I can tell you're scared, and if it helps you at all, I can say one thing."

The creature opened his eyes and looked at her. "What?"

Veronica hesitated. The expression on his face made him look vulnerable, like he was a puppy that had just been kicked. Yet, she could tell he wasn't making that face at her just to buy her sympathy or manipulate her into letting her guard down.

On the other hand, part of her – the part that still wanted to do the right thing and protect the innocent – couldn't help but give in a little. Sure, it may have been a trap, but there was something in his face, some shade in the pathetic expression he was making that pushed her to reach out and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. Then, after a moment of searching her mind, she said the most comforting thing she could think of.

"If you fuck up and get the rest of the city wiped out, I'll kill you myself."

Without even looking at the expression on his face, she turned and started for the pokémon center.

"I really need a drink," she muttered.


	14. Thirteen: Gunpowder

**Author's Note:**  
As a side note, I'd like to say that as I'm posting chapters here, I'm also editing the crap out of them, so there _are_ some differences between this and the Serebii or Studio-Revolution versions. That's also just to say that there may be some fresh material in here for you. b)'')b**  
**

* * *

**Anima Ex Machina: Thirteen  
Fire and gunpowder do not sleep together.**

Fact #1: Scotch on the rocks is, by definition, as simple a drink as one would imagine. It involves one glass, half its volume of ice, and half its volume of scotch. The end result is that the cold and water dull the normally intense bitterness of the scotch, which is why aficionados have a tendency to look down on anyone who would bother to drink it. On the other hand, watering down the drink has two distinct advantages. First, a person uses less whisky in the mixing of a scotch on the rocks, which extends the time between buying bottles – an advantage if scotch whisky isn't readily available. Second, it takes longer for a seasoned habitual drinker to feel the effects of alcohol, allowing him to feel the faint tingle of a buzz and taste the ghost of scotch without losing any semblance of functionality.

Fact #2: All alcohol had been banned from Polaris Institute from the day it opened. It was agreed years ago by the first director that allowing alcohol would distract the resident scientists from the pursuit of progress. Professor Samuel Oak – who was at the time of Project Stardust the director of Polaris Institute – agreed with this notion and upheld it whenever possible.

Fact #3: Professor John McKenzie, former leader of the New Bark biophysics team, was drinking a scotch on the rocks in front of Professor Samuel Oak.

Oak had nothing to say about the matter. For one, he knew John. The two of them went way back: they were colleagues when they first went into the field of pokémon research together, graduates of the same class at the same school and protégés of the same mentor. Oak already knew about McKenzie and exactly how effective it would be to tell him that the institute had a rule against alcohol. For another, as much as he didn't want to promote favoritism, he actually liked the man. John had a certain charisma about him that made him difficult to handle. No matter how stern Oak wanted to be (not that he would find this easy anyway), that all dissolved because, simply put, John had a way of making people like him. It wasn't just Oak, either. John was simply the kind of person who could sell someone the Brooklyn Bridge and get away with it if he wanted to do it badly enough.

For a third, Oak already felt a sense of guilt. This was because after hours of dodging, of insisting that John get settled and briefed on his new position in Polaris Institute, there was no way around telling him the truth, and to do that, he sat down with the man in an empty break room to explain everything. So, Oak couldn't blame the man for wanting a drink. He was just expecting John to want it after he told him everything. That is, Oak hadn't said a word yet, but there John was with scotch poured from his own canteen into a glass of ice provided by the Institute, as if he already knew it would be a good idea.

Waiting for Oak to say something, John leaned back in his chair with one of his hands on the steel table in front of him and the other on the drink. Oak, still composing the words in his head, held a cup of coffee and kept his eyes steady on his colleague's face.

"So," John finally said in an effort to start the conversation. "William's one of those things now."

Oak nodded. "I'm sorry, Profesor McKenzie. We don't know how it happened."

John waved a hand in the air. "I wouldn't put it past my son to want a closer look at the little bastard. But that isn't the important part right now, is it? When can I see him?"

"You... won't," Oak replied. "There was an accident just before you arrived. Bill and a second XP-650B escaped." He let his shoulders sag a little. "I'm so sorry."

John peered over the edge of his glass. "Any idea where they might have gone?"

"Not yet. We didn't think we'd need to tag either of them with tracking devices, and there haven't been any sightings."

"It's an island. How far could they've gotten?"

Oak shifted in his seat. "Apparently, Abel can fly. You can look at the security footage as soon as you're ready to get started."

"Fly?" John took a sip of his scotch. "Now that's interesting. It could explain why no one's found Pandora either."

"You know about Pandora?"

John nodded. "The Committee's released the video a week ago, and everyone in New Bark has had a look at it already. We've gotten the reports about Abel and William, too."

"I see. In any case, Professor McKenzie, I called you here with the hopes that you'd be interested in taking a place somewhere on Polaris's team. I thought you'd appreciate working closely with Bill."

John squinted over his glass. "There sounds like there's a but there."

Oak leaned back. "We have no openings on our biophysics team, and unless you'd like to try your hand at behavioral psychology, I was given instructions from the Committee to put you on a special-"

"Yes."

Oak hesitated, clearing his throat. "Right. I thought you'd agree. You'll have access to your own personal laboratory as well as private timeslots for studying XP-650A. We haven't received any new recruits yet, and the Committee insists – and I agree with them – that creating another XP-650B would be unethical. So I'm afraid I can't supply you with anything better than security footage of Bill and Abel."

Looking at John's face, Oak could swear that he saw a slight change in expression. It happened extremely quickly: a flash of a frown and a dark glint in the man's eyes. After that, Oak felt a little cold, even though John smiled a second later.

"Ha! Is that what you call a challenge?" John asked. "Don't you worry. I can work with whatever you've got."

Oak forced himself to smile. "Great! I'll show you to the space you'll be using starting tomorrow."

He stood and took his Styrofoam cup of coffee with him. However, before he could turn to walk away, John placed his glass on the table and spoke.

"They're in Hoenn."

Oak turned towards his colleague. "What?"

"William, Pandora, and Abel," John answered. "They're in Hoenn."

The other researcher raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

"Think about it, Sam. Some of them can fly, and Hoenn isn't that far from here. Why haven't we seen any outside of captivity anywhere else yet?"

The realization hit Oak hard. He never thought about it, but John had a point – a very important one. For whatever reason, the creatures he knew as XP-650 had infested an entire region... but _only_ an entire region. In the months they had been on Earth, they hadn't moved past the region's borders.

"That must mean..."

"They're flocking back to Hoenn. All of them."

Oak sat back down to let the revelation sink in. Why didn't he think of it before? The aggressiveness of Abel. What Bill said about the creature trying to escape. The fact that there wasn't a single sighting of XP-650 outside of mainland Hoenn. It had to be true: the creatures weren't leaving the island. But why? What could be there that drew all of the aliens to one place?

John stood this time. Turning away from the table, he leaned the small of his back against its edge and took a nice, long drink.

"By the way," he said, "I wouldn't trust the Committee if I were you. They've been hiding a lot of important information from all of us, and it doesn't make any sense why they would. Something's going on with them."

Oak stared at John's back. He knew there was something suspicious about the Committee already. That thought came to him as early as the moment he found out about the Pandora video. It was just that he didn't have a choice but to trust them at the moment, but he wasn't about to tell John that. Instead, something else came out of his mouth.

"Professor McKenzie, there's something else you should know about Bill."

John didn't even look back. "What's that?"

"He's not like Pandora or Abel, as far as any of us could tell," Oak told him. "He has the same personality as he did as a human, and he recognized us. For all intents and purposes, I'd say inside, he's still the same Bill we all know."

The other researcher didn't say anything. Instead, he took another long sip of his scotch.

"I thought you'd like to know," Oak continued, "so you wouldn't think you've lost your son yet. And if it means anything, John, it's good that he's sane. Bill's sharp. He'll take care of himself until we can find a way to help him. You don't have t-"

"Lucidity," John repeated. "An XP-650 that's got lucidity."

He started for the door. For a long while, he didn't say anything. He only finished off the rest of the scotch, the clink of the ice cubes against glass providing the only sound in the room. Placing a hand on the door knob, he said two words without even looking at Oak.

"That's interesting."

With that, he turned the knob and walked into the hallway.

* * *

Blue lightning hit the dirt with a crack. Dust swirled upwards in a brown cloud, and a coppery smell hung in the air. Bill landed on all fours with his claws digging into the earth to anchor him. Wincing, he crouched in a patch of tall grass and peered through the blades to his opponent. Several feet away, a manectric stepped forward, his teeth bared in a growl. Sparks crackled off his blue and yellow body as his nostrils flared to catch any sign of his metal victim.

"This is bad," Bill murmured.

Inside his mind, Adam quipped, _Do humans normally state the obvious?_

"Now isn't the best time for sarcasm, Adam. What should I do?"

_On the contrary. Now is the perfect time. As for what you should do, is it not obvious to you? Get up and fight. Use the new moves you have discovered._

Bill groaned. Stiffly, he forced himself up and held his claws out to his sides. The muscles in his fingers tensed against his armor while his skin began to glow white. On the other side of the field, the manectric lifted his muzzle to the sky and belted out a long, loud howl. Bill hesitated, trembling as he watched the dog arch his back and bare his teeth just a bit more.

_Now, Bill,_ Adam ordered. _Its guard is down. Strike now!_

Without thinking, Bill launched forward, his glowing claws sweeping low. The manectric watched him with steady eyes, but he didn't move from his spot. For roughly a second, that fact burned into Bill's mind, but unfortunately for him, he paid no further attention to it. With more speed than he thought he had, his hand swung down, fingers slashing across the crest on manectric's head. The dog yelped and emitted a burst of sparks, but he stood his ground as Bill stumbled to the side and fell to one knee.

_A miss,_ Adam growled. _Get up and do it again._

Nodding, Bill tried to stand, but suddenly, his body went numb. He cried out and dropped back down, planting his hands on the earth. His face twisted in a wince as he forced himself to look at his arm. Electricity arced off his skin in tiny sparks.

"Static," he grunted. "I should have seen that coming."

_What is that?_ Adam asked.

"Pokémon on this planet have different special abilities. The manectric species... there's a chance some of them have Static. It induces paralysis."

_Paralysis. Does that mean...?_

"It means..." Bill struggled to move, but his body was locked in place. "It means that I can't move."

A bark pulled Bill's attention back to the battle. With some effort, he lifted his chin enough to look directly forward. There, the manectric stood, panting and smiling like a puppy. Gradually, his mouth pulled towards the front of his muzzle while electricity gathered in a dome of sparks around him. Bill felt cold; he recognized the stance right away.

"Thunder. No!"

Struggling against paralysis, Bill forced his mouth open, but he wasn't quite quick enough to say a word. All of the electricity surrounding manectric surged through the air in a golden beam, and with so little space between the canine and his target, Bill took the full hit in a matter of seconds.

He couldn't even scream. One moment, he was kneeling in front of manectric. The next, he was lying on his back, lips parted slightly and eyes wide open. He was pretty sure he would have felt an overwhelming amount of pain if he could feel anything at all besides a tingling sensation all over his body.

_You_, _Bill,_ _are an embarrassment,_ Adam drawled.

While Bill felt the parasite recede from his mind, his canine opponent padded around his head and sniffed at Bill's face. A few seconds later, Thom peered over the two of them.

"Wow," he said. "You're really out of it this time."

Something landed with a thump next to Bill's head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blotch of brown, an object he knew to be Thom's bag.

"Now, let's see," Thom said, his hands rustling through his bag. "I know I have a revive in here somewhere..."

"_Thomas Wattson!_"

Thom yelped and jumped to his feet, knocking his pack to the ground. Whirling around, he came eye-to-eye with Ellen, who was storming towards him with Chansey behind her. On the crest of the hill above them, Thom could see Veronica watching them with a growlithe by her side.

"What did you do?" she demanded.

"Uh, um..." Thom reached up to rub the back of his neck. "Training?"

"Training?" Ellen's voice grew shriller as she stood just inches from Thom. She placed her hands on her hips, and her lips were drawn tight. "Look at him! He can't even get up!"

She dropped to her knees beside Bill and passed a hand over his nose and mouth.

"He's still breathing. That's a good sign." Looking directly into his eyes, she added, "Bill? Can you hear me?"

It took him awhile to muster up enough energy to speak, but when he did, he replied hoarsely, "Joy-san desu ka? Daijoubu da."

Ellen threw a glare over her shoulder at Thom before turning to Chansey. "Chansey, he's just conscious enough for Softboiled to work. Would you please?"

Chansey trilled and saluted. Stepping forward, she pulled her egg out of its pouch as it began to glow yellow. A small orb of light pulled away from its smooth surface and drifted towards Bill. He felt its warmth touch his metal skin, and slowly, the rest of his body began to feel warm as he gradually began to recover his energy. Still, although the feeling of weakness was starting to ebb, the numbness in his body persisted.

Noticing that he still wasn't moving, Ellen said, "Bill? Can you do me a favor? Can you wiggle your fingers?"

Squinting, he concentrated his energy on moving. His fingers remained still, and he still couldn't feel them.

"He's paralyzed," Ellen murmured. "Chansey, use Heal Bell, please."

Stuffing her egg back into her pouch, Chansey brought her arms close together and began to sing in a series of high-pitched, long notes. Her body took on a blue glow as ripples of light ebbed off her body. Bill closed his eyes completely and allowed himself to relax. The music seemed to seep into him, as if he wasn't just listening but absorbing it into his muscles. It left him feeling an unpleasant, tingling sensation through his limbs, like the feeling he got after his foot fell asleep.

"Try flexing your fingers now."

Bill opened his eyes and realized that Chansey's music had ended. Keeping his eyes on Nurse Joy, he tried moving the fingers of his right hand. Without any trouble, each one curled into a fist. Smiling, he sat up, but as soon as he did, he swayed and nearly fell backwards. Ellen grabbed him by the arm and gently supported him.

"Careful! You're still recovering," she told him. "You should be fine if you take it easy for the rest of the day."

Nodding, Bill shifted to sit up on his own. "Thank you."

Ellen smiled, but as soon as she turned to Thom, her expression turned ice-cold. Thom froze, backing up slowly as his manectric whimpered.

"Using a gym leader's manectric against a low-leveled pokémon. You ought to be ashamed of yourself!" she snapped.

Thom held up his hands. "It was an accident! I was gonna go easy on him, but I just got, y'know, a little carried away."

"You induced paralysis on him and proceeded to electrocute him. He could have died!"

"Ah, Nurse Joy," Bill said, "if I may, aren't you being a bit harsh on-"

Ellen didn't seem to notice, opting instead to move towards Manectric. She stooped down with her back towards Bill, who instantly fell silent. All of the nurse's attention went towards the dog for a few moments as she examined his underside, his paws, his legs, and everything else she could go over in a few seconds. The dog waited obediently, mouth open and tongue lolling out of his muzzle at the attention he was receiving. When the examination was complete, Ellen sat back on her heels and put a hand on Manectric's crest.

"Chansey, Softboiled should be enough to take care of this cut. Otherwise, he didn't seem to sustain any other injuries, but give him another look over to make sure I didn't miss anything." She stood and turned her icy glare back towards Thom. "As for you, Thom, how long have you been battling like this?"

While Chansey trilled and got to work, Thom looked skyward. "Uh, since this morning, I guess?"

"It's past three in the afternoon! You're telling me you've been battling him nonstop for hours?"

"Hey, not nonstop!" Thom protested. "We've had breaks... here and there."

"Thom, how could you?" Ellen replied. "We don't know anything about the ixodida or their limits, and you know Bill's new to this! He doesn't know how strong he is or how much he can take!"

Bill sat a little straighter. "Nurse Joy, I-"

"You can't go too hard on him," Ellen interrupted. "If he gets seriously hurt, I don't know how well I can take care of him."

Veronica crossed her arms and moved forward. "You know, maybe Thom has the right idea. Growlithe!"

The puppy stepped forward. Veronica took off her hat and bent down to put it firmly on her dog's head. Then, she stood, turned, and put some distance between herself and her pokémon.

"Bill," she said, "there are a lot of ixodida on this island, and they can attack at any moment. Therefore, we need to make sure you're ready to fight them." She motioned to her dog. "If you can get my hat away from my growlithe, you'll earn my respect. If you can't, then Nurse Joy will just have to clean you off the hill. Growlithe, have fun. Got it?"

The dog barked and lowered his head. His lips pulled back, revealing rows of sharp, white teeth. Already, orange sparks flicked between each of his fangs.

"Veronica," Ellen hissed. "What are you doing?"

She smiled. "Relax. I'm going easy on him. Go on, Bill."

Bill looked down at the growlithe, who was still snarling at him. He forced himself to his feet and fixed his eyes on the hat. Walking forward, he noticed that the growlithe wasn't moving, wasn't attempting to attack him. He almost called Veronica's task easy – if he wasn't so suspicious of it thanks to the officer's opinion of him.

Even with this in mind, he stooped down to reach for the hat. Before his fingers could get within an inch of its blue fabric, Growlithe lifted her head and spat out a ball of fire that hit Bill's shoulder. Although Bill could recognize it as Ember (and not a full Ember at that), he still felt searing pain radiate from where the ball struck him. Reeling back, he sucked in a breath through his teeth and clasped his shoulder. Under his hand, he could feel his metal skin soften, and beneath that, it felt like his muscles and bones were on fire.

_Of course,_ he thought. _I'm a steel-type. I'm weak to fire. But I shouldn't be _this_ weak._

"What's wrong, Bill?" Veronica asked, her eyes narrowing. "Afraid of a little fire?"

He glanced at her. "What? No! I..."

Setting his eyes back on Growlithe, he stopped. Resolving himself, he swept downward and swiped for the hat as quickly as he could.

He didn't notice the sparks in Growlithe's mouth until the Flamethrower hit him in the stomach.

Screaming, he flailed backwards and hit the ground with a bang. He closed his eyes and tried to will away the burning sensation crawling across his torso. His fingers dug into the earth, ripping through clumps of dried grass. Only a couple of feet away, Growlithe opened her mouth again and released another stream of fire, this time using her tongue to twist it into a spiral headed straight for his opponent.

The next thing Bill felt was pain and heat. His eyes snapped open, and all around him, he saw orange light. Growlithe's fire twisted around him like a serpent, rising higher and higher until it obscured Bill completely in a towering inferno. Inside, Bill could only scream; even if the Fire Spin didn't bind him to the spot, his body refused to move thanks to the sheer amount of pain he was feeling. It felt like the fire had entered him and was cooking him from the inside out. Every nerve flared, every muscle burned under his bubbling skin.

Over the roar of the fire surrounding him, he heard one other sound: a single loud bark that penetrated his brain. Right away, his bones felt chilled, and without thinking, he burst out of the fire cyclone and hit the ground just outside it. The fire dissipated shortly afterwards, and Bill was left shaking where he was on the ground.

In the ensuing silence, Veronica took her hat back from Growlithe and glanced Ellen's way. The nurse was staring at the blackened circle where the flaming tornado had been a second ago.

"Veronica," Ellen whispered. Shaking her head, she started forward. "Chansey! Quickly! Use Softboiled!"

Nodding, the happiness pokémon pulled her egg free from her pouch again. She raised it high in the air as it began to glow bright yellow, and just as it had a few moments ago, the egg emitted a ball of yellow energy that floated gently towards Bill. It brushed his half-melted skin and spread over his body, enveloping him in a yellow light. He felt the pain gradually recede, his skin reinforce and smooth itself out, and his energy come back to him until he was finally able to lift his head.

"I failed, didn't I?" he rasped.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Veronica replied.

"Hey!" Thom yelled. "What's the big idea, anyway? I thought you said you were gonna go easy on him!"

"I did," she told him. "Compared to the ixodida, anyway. You keep babying him, and he won't be in any condition to fight. You've seen ixodida. They don't show any mercy when they battle. If he's not prepared to give it his all, then he's useless."

Bill sat up. He had nothing to say, but he knew Veronica was right. If he couldn't learn how to fight against any normal pokémon, how could he expect to protect anyone?

"Besides, we just got a radio message from the Caravan," Veronica continued. "They're staying at the Winstrate Estate right now, and they should be here within the next few days. If that thing isn't ready to prove to them that he'll be an asset to our side, then I'd hate to see what they'd do to him."

Instantly, Thom's eyebrows went up. "The Caravan? They're coming for us?"

"Of course they are. There's people here, and they don't abandon refugees for any reason."

"The Caravan?" Bill whispered as Thom went off on another list of questions.

Ellen nodded. "They're a band of strong trainers that travels all across Hoenn. They stop in places like Mauville to protect survivors and take them to safe places at the edges of the region. They've been through here once, but they couldn't take all of us then."

Bill turned to look at Ellen. For a long while, all he did was study her face, tuning out the conversation Thom and Veronica were having around them. Ellen's expression softened, and she gently grasped Bill's arm.

"Come on. We should get you back to the pokémon center. You've been hurt pretty badly, and Chansey's Softboiled can only do so much."

With some effort and her help, he rose to his feet. "Nurse Joy..."

She offered him a smile and whispered, "It's okay. Don't listen to her. There are people at the center who have already figured out a way to get the Caravan to take you with us, and regardless of whether you're ready to fight the ixodida or not, we won't leave you behind."

He could only give her a confused look as she led him past Thom and Veronica.


	15. Fourteen: Face

**Anima Ex Machina: Fourteen  
I know your face.**

"Damage report."

On the wall of a board room, a screen lit up. Black-and-white stills filled every inch of it. Some of them were of a group of people in lab coats crowding a nondescript hallway. Others were of two alien creatures: one standing upright and the other crouched in a fighting stance. Still others showed a battle between the second alien and the army of scientists, followed by images of another struggle between the remaining humans and a security force. The last few were photographs of a hole in the roof, the debris beneath it, scorch marks, and bodies – growlithe and people with their mouths frozen open in dead screams.

Five individuals sat behind a long table. Each one of them looked roughly the same: pale skin, black suits, eyes fixed on the images in front of them. Most people involved with Project Stardust would never meet them, but these were the Committee, the five individuals who watched over every last activity within each of the government-sanctioned research institutions.

As such, they were hardly pleased to know what happened to Polaris Institute.

At one end of the long table, the man known as Fifth cleared his throat and began, "Our staffing procedures failed to filter out several members from the organized crime syndicate known as Team Rocket. Their specific goals and the extent of their reach within Project Stardust remain unknown to our own officers, but it is absolutely clear to us now that they wish to acquire both forms of XP-650."

In the center seat of the table sat the head of the Committee itself, a man simply known as First. Frowning, First laced his fingers together and propped his elbows on the table.

"Are they aware of the threat XP-650 poses to humankind?" he asked.

"It seems," Fifth replied, "that they want to use it to their advantage. We have reason to believe that they were behind the creation of Adam, and we are almost certain they were responsible for Abel."

"I see. Is there anything we can do to prevent further activity from them?"

On the other end of the table, a woman, Fourth, spoke, "Investigations have been underway since Abel's creation. Team Rocket has hidden its operatives well within our ranks. Finding them and expelling them will take far too much time, and we have very little of that already."

Without turning his head, First slipped his gaze to Fourth. "Then, what would you propose we do?"

"Allow them to continue their own operations," Fourth proposed. "So long as they fail to escape our facilities, we could use their experiments for our own purposes. After all, while we cannot violate any of our own code of ethics, Team Rocket does not subscribe to the same. They can create the specimens we need to understand the XP-650 species in full."

First exhaled. He knew he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. After all, he could see what kind of damages an ixodida could induce, just by looking at the screen in front of him. They needed the research no sane scientist would uncover.

"Very well, then," he said. "We will allow Team Rocket to continue operations. Additionally, we will send teams to repair Polaris Institute and outfit the complex with security suited for containing XP-650. The next one to be created will not escape."

"Thank you, sir," Fourth replied.

"Yes." First turned his head to the woman sitting next to him. "Second, do you have the status of the indexed XP-650?"

Second reached forward to press a button on the table. Instantly, the stills disappeared, and in their place was the image of a young, pale woman in a chair.

"Stardust Project: Subject 001, Codename Pandora," she stated. "Operatives in Hoenn have spotted her flying above the meteorite crater known as Point Zero. She was heading east, presumably for Mt. Pyre. Due to the concentration of XP-650 in that particular area, we lost contact with her shortly thereafter."

Her fingers hit the button again. This time, the image that appeared was a black-and-white shot angled down towards part of the nondescript hallway. Standing close to one side of the photo was an armored ixodida. One of his hands was on his head while the other was braced against the wall. He looked forward with a concerned expression on his face; he didn't seem to notice the camera at all.

"Stardust Project: Subject 002, Codename Adam," Second continued. "Shortly after the attack on Polaris Institute, Adam vanished along with Abel. The last sighting of him was over one of the National Defense Force bases in Fallarbor Town. It has been reported that Abel was carrying him southward, presumably to the same point as Pandora. Unlike the other registered XP-650, this one seems to be what is known in their species as a rogue – an XP-650 capable of independent thought most resembling the host. Because of this, his retrieval is priority one. We have not been able to identify a true rogue throughout Project Stardust until Adam, and we need to understand how one is created more than anything else."

"Of course," First replied. "But continue. What of the others?"

Second pressed the button again. Another shot of the nondescript hallway appeared, this time with an ixodida crouched in the center. Electricity arced off its spiky skin, and its mouth hung open.

"Stardust Project: Subject 003, Codename Abel," she reported. "While Pandora and Adam are both monarchs, Abel is what is known as a drone. His behavior is violent and erratic, far more than even Pandora's. However, while Pandora is more dangerous because of her ability to be calculating, Abel is simply mindlessly destructive. He was responsible for the collateral damage to Polaris Institute as well as the deaths of a small portion of the security staff. His status, as far as we know, is the same as Adam's."

She hit the button one more time. This time, the screen blanked completely. Instead, a sound filled the room: the sound of a woman singing. At first, it was simply that, but as it continued, a low, almost demonic rumble began to form beneath the surface of her vocals.

"Stardust Project: Subject 004, Codename Lilith," Second continued. "The research camp closest to Point Zero received this transmission from her not too long ago. We currently have no further information concerning Lilith or who she is."

First leaned forward, and for a long time, he simply stared straight ahead. The others waited in complete silence. It was difficult to tell whether or not they were even breathing.

At last, he finally spoke.

"I see."

Second swallowed. "Sir? Your orders?"

"Notify the Agency of Lilith. Advise them to send forces to Point Zero," First replied. "She may be the one we will need to watch the most."

"Is that all, sir?"

Another silence lapsed between all five members of the Committee. First's hand slipped to a button in front of him, and as soon as he pressed it, the screen flared to life. A single image remained on it, that of the metal ixodida standing in the otherwise empty hallway.

"Codename Adam," First said. "A steel-type. Curious. We have no documentation of any other steel-types on this planet."

"Sir?" Second asked.

"Nothing," First replied. "Yes, Second, that will be all."

He pressed the button again, and the room plunged into darkness.

* * *

Early mornings in Mauville City typically involved a thick, chilled fog rolling in from the nearby river. Most residents knew this was a dangerous time to be outside. Human senses weren't adapted to fog, but the ixodida had no trouble traveling in those conditions. So, to the residents of Mauville, fog meant one could never tell if an ixodida was lurking just beyond what human eyes could see.

As a human's pokémon, Chansey knew this very well. She had to treat far too many careless trainers than she cared to count, and she knew that her kind was nothing more than prey to the ixodida. However, she also knew that the best time to go outside, if one wanted to be left alone, was barely a half an hour after the sun rose. At that time, the fog would thin just enough for the average person to see the hazy forms of the city several feet around them, and for pokémon, creatures that relied on their senses of smell and hearing instead of sight to identify approaching dangers, the extra visibility just made things more convenient. The humans of Mauville generally erred on the side of caution by staying indoors until not a trace of fog clouded the streets, which kept the numbers of different scents and sounds at a minimum. At the same time, she was close enough to the pokémon center that a human, if one happened to be watching, could easily see her from the window.

Because of that, she felt at ease standing outside. Her feather-like ears twitched as she meditated quietly in the last remnants of the fog. She waited patiently for something to happen, for someone to arrive.

Behind her, she heard a soft scratch, the slight sound of something scraping lightly against concrete. Turning, she was just in time to see a white light swing backwards and form the shape of five sharp, glowing claws. She pulled her stubby arms over her head and crouched as the arm swung forward, but before it could strike her, her soft body compressed itself and shrank, melting into a smaller version of her natural form.

"GAH!"

Her attacker's arm flailed through the empty air above her head. The rest of his body followed, and before he could process what was happening, Bill tumbled head over heels into the road beyond his target.

When he came to a stop, he forced himself to sit up with a wince. His claws stopped glowing as his hand reached for his head.

"I should have seen that one coming," he mumbled to himself.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of another white light. Looking up, he watched as an egg-shaped object rolled towards him and came to a stop right by his feet. It took another second for him to realize what a glowing egg meant.

A few feet away, Chansey watched with a small, triumphant smile on her face as her Egg Bomb exploded, sending dust and debris sky high. The egg itself sailed out of the cloud in a neat arc before Chansey reached up and caught it neatly. Shoving it back into her pouch, she glanced towards her opponent with a devious grin.

As soon as the dust cleared, she was surprised to find that he was still kneeling exactly where he was without so much as a dent on his body. His arms were crossed in front of his face, and a faint, blue aura surrounded him. Slowly, he lowered his arms while the light faded.

"I can't believe that actually worked," he said.

_Neither can I,_ Adam quipped.

"I told you Iron Defense wouldn't be a worthless move."

_I never said it would be. I was referring to the fact that your speed is abysmal._

Bill frowned. "You don't have to put it that critically."

_Hm. Bill, focus. The battle is far from over, and it appears our opponent has realized that._

Turning, Bill narrowly dodged the happiness pokémon as she barreled right at him. A streak of gold energy followed her pink body like the tail of a comet, and when she struck the pavement, the road indented beneath her, leaving cracks and a crater where she fell. Seconds later, she picked herself up, panting and clutching her side with one of her paws.

_Double-Edge. A risky maneuver. She must be getting desperate,_ Adam commented.

"Not exactly," Bill whispered. "With Softboiled, she makes up for whatever health she loses."

_A good point. What do you plan to do now, knowing this?_

"What I usually do in this sort of situation," Bill replied, a little too calmly. "Make things up as I go along."

For a second time, Chansey pushed off the ground with both feet and launched at her target with a burst of speed. A golden streak stretched behind her, and she braced herself for impact. As quickly as he could, Bill crouched, shielding his face again with his arms. The same, faint aura that he had produced not too long ago surrounded his body just before Chansey slammed directly into him. His armor took the blow, refusing to bend beneath her strike while his hands lashed out to grab her. Each of his fingers encircled the feathery appendages on either side of her head, stopping her right where she was.

"Got you!" he exclaimed.

_Good job, Bill,_ Adam said. _Now. How should we finish her?_

"I've got just the thing."

Bill lifted his tail as it began to glow. He could feel the muscles in each segment tense against his metal skin until the appendage was stiff and heavy. In one quick motion, he let go of Chansey and spun around, swinging his tail in a circle around his body.

The challenge in mastering many steel-type moves, as Bill would shortly learn, was that every last one of them needed the user's utmost focus to use. Even a split second of hesitation would result in complete and utter failure.

For example, just before Bill's strike landed, part of him wavered. Would it be too forceful of a strike? Would it actually seriously hurt her? She had just used not one but two Double-Edge attacks, so she was already weak. These thoughts, as quickly as they came, were just enough to cause Bill's tail to relax just a little. It lost its glow a split second before it hit its target, and as a result, it smacked the side of Chansey's head with just that: a smack, not a blow.

Blinking, Bill looked over his shoulder as Chansey opened her eyes. The pink pokémon gave him a mischievous grin as her paws reached up to wrap around his tail. Bill bristled, straightening as every part of him tensed in anticipation for the inevitable ending strike.

Yanking him closer to her (which itself elicited a loud yelp from Bill), Chansey extended one paw and smacked him across the face repeatedly. Then, to add insult to injury, she seized his tail in both hands again. With strength Bill didn't even realize a chansey could possess, she jumped into the air, yanking him off the ground with her. Once airborne, she swung him in several complete circles beside her like a yo-yo and released him mid-swing to send him sailing towards the ground. Her Seismic Toss lasted only a few brief seconds, and at the end, Bill landed with a crack on the pavement. He didn't bother to stir after that.

_Just the thing, Bill?_ Adam scoffed.

Bill didn't respond. He simply stared upwards at the gray sky. The fog had almost completely lifted, and the morning sun was filtering through the remaining wisps. Above him, Chansey's face, now a normal size for her species, appeared to give him a sympathetic glance.

"Chansey chan?" she muttered.

She pulled out her egg while it took on a yellow glow. Light from its surface bathed her former opponent, and he closed his eyes and relaxed. Gradually, his mind began to clear enough to let him think straight.

"I'll be all right," he said quietly. "Thank you for your concern."

After a few moments, he sat up and rubbed the back of his head. Chansey took a step back and stuffed her egg into its pouch again.

"Chansey chan chan-sey," she told him.

"You don't have to apologize," he replied. "It was better that you attacked me that vigorously. At least I learned Iron Defense this time around."

"Chan. Chan chan chansey chan. Chansey chan."

"Clear my mind when I use Iron Tail?" He shook his head. "Yes, but I can't help it. Every time I'm about to hit you, I can't stop myself from thinking I might hurt you."

"Chan," she replied sternly. "Chansey chan chansey."

"You're starting to sound like Officer Jenny," he muttered as he gave her an awkward look. "But you're right. If I'm going to help any of you, I need to stop letting myself be preoccupied with that." Glancing upwards at the sky, he squinted. "Perhaps we should try one more time. I need to learn at least one steel-type attack before the Caravan arrives. Just give me a few minutes to rest, and we can begin."

Chansey reached up to pat him on the shoulder. She didn't say anything, opting to let her companion sit and breathe quietly until he felt well enough to stand. In the meantime, the fog completely cleared, revealing buildings blocks away until the entire street was visible. Right about then, the low hum of chatter began to filter from the pokémon center as the survivors of Mauville gathered in its lowest floor. Bill listened to this for a while before he stood and flicked his tail. He needed to do this for them, and he knew that.

"Right," he said. "Are you ready?"

Before Chansey could respond, the two of them caught the sound of shoes against pavement and the bark of a manectric. Turning, they saw Thom and Ellen run towards them with Thom's manectric leading the way.

"Bill! Chansey!" Ellen called. "Oh, thank goodness! I've been looking all over the center for the two of you! Why would you come out in the fog?"

Straightening, Bill replied, "I'm terribly sorry. I should have asked to borrow Chansey this morning. She was helping me train."

Chansey nodded vigorously and chirped to confirm his explanation. Ellen glanced from her partner to the ixodida and back and frowned.

"I know you're new to this area, Bill, but it's extremely dangerous to go out when it's foggy. You never know if any hostile ixodida are out," she said. "Chansey, why would you let him train at this hour?"

As the happiness pokémon chirped her reply, Bill cringed in embarrassment. He hadn't thought of the possibility, and already, he was feeling a little foolish for it.

"Never mind that!" Thom said excitedly. "How far did you get in your training? D'you think you'd be able to hold your own against Manectric?"

Shifting a confused gaze towards Thom, Bill replied, "Ah... Well, I mastered Slash and Scratch, and I learned Iron Defense. So, not very far, I suppose. But... why are you so excited about fighting me again?"

"Are you kidding?" Thom exclaimed, leaning towards Bill. "I've got to do some training too! Just think of how many ixodida I'll be able to kick around once Manectric's all revved up for it!" Then, he paused and leaned back. "Uh, no offense or anything."

Bill shied away from Thom. "I'm... honestly not sure how I should be reacting to that."

"Seriously, Thom," Ellen whispered harshly.

"Oh come on!" Thom protested. "I'd really go easy on him this time! Honest! And it'd be for a good cause!" His voice lowered into a mumble. "And it's not like I was actually saying I'd kill him or anything."

Ellen opened her mouth to retaliate, but before she could, a green glow caught her eye. Gasping, she turned towards its source and stumbled out of the way.

"Wait!" she cried. "Look out!"

Thom, Manectric, and Chansey dove in opposite directions to get out of the way of the incoming beam. Bill, meanwhile, whirled around and stumbled backwards, just in time for the green and yellow beam to slam into the pavement where he had been standing a second ago. He stared with wide eyes at the crater it left behind before he heard the sound of something thumping against the concrete. Lifting his gaze, he noticed a figure running directly at him, but before he could get a good look at the newcomer, she swung at him with a long, metal object. Reflexively, he blocked the object – a crowbar, apparently – with his forearm, but this left his legs wide open for a boot to sweep his feet from under him. He slammed onto his back, and seconds later, the girl was sitting on his stomach, the crowbar pinning his chest to the ground.

"Run!" she screamed.

"What's the big idea?" Thom exclaimed. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Saving you!" the girl snapped. "Run before it breaks free!"

"He's not going to hurt you!" Ellen explained. "He's a friendly ixodida! One that thinks just like a human! Just ask him!"

The girl turned back to her captive and glared coldly at his face. In the meantime, Bill lay where he was. He was stunned, but it wasn't because of the attack.

It was because he knew her.

From what he could tell, the woman had been through Hell. Her green dress was ripped halfway up its skirt, revealing legs bound tightly in thick leather boots. The bodice was bound with leather belts crossing her waist and chest, but judging by the knife sheathed on her hip and the poké balls clipped to one of the strips crossing her torso, they weren't for show. Her arms were covered with torn, green sleeves, but even though they covered most of her pale skin, Bill could see scars he knew she didn't have months ago. Even her face looked harder. Her red eyes glared icily at him from behind half-moon glasses, and her mouth formed a thin line as she pressed down on the crowbar a little more.

In the pause as she glared at him, her altaria descended, ruffling her cloud-like wings as she stood and waited for her mistress's next command.

"You have ten seconds to prove her right, or I'll order my altaria to end you right here," the woman drawled.

Ten seconds. In that time, Bill deliberated back and forth between whether or not he should reveal who he was to her. The newcomer was smart, though, and he had no doubt she would recognize him eventually. Besides, it would certainly make things easier for him to have an ally like her. Yet, on the other hand, he didn't particularly want her to see his body the way it was – not her, of all people.

Fixing his jaw, he prepared to speak. If it would get her to trust him, the easier way won out.

"Hello, Lanette," he said.

Ellen stepped back and exchanged glances with Thom. Both of them recognized the name, and why wouldn't they? Lanette wasn't exactly a common name in that region, and the one that came to mind for the both of them was attached to the regional storage system. Neither of them had any idea what she was doing there, looking like an amazon ripped from a dystopian comic book, let alone one with a crowbar pressed firmly against an ixodida's chest.

Lanette had no idea that they were staring at her in curiosity. After all, she was busy giving the ixodida her own gaze of wide-eyed surprise.

She sat a little straighter. "How did you...?"

He opened his eyes and gave her a pleading look. "It's me. Bill."

The look of shock on her face immediately dissolved into a fierce glare again as she pressed down on the crowbar. "Who?"

"McKenzie," he choked as he squirmed under the pressure of the bar. "I'm your partner!"

"Liar! The Bill I know is in Kanto. I don't know where you got that name, but-"

"It's true," Bill interrupted. "Lanette, there was... I was involved in an accident. It's a very long story, but the end result is, well..." He gave her a sheepish grin. "I'm here. And I'm stuck like this. Please believe me."

"Why should I?"

She pressed down a little harder. Bill coughed, feeling the pressure of her hold against the jewel in his chest. Adam stirred in his mind with a low growl.

_Bill, do something,_ it hissed. _If my core breaks, then we will both die. Therefore, if you allow her to continue, I will be forced to kill her myself._

For a brief second, Bill paused to think about what Adam said. He didn't need to be told twice, especially when it concerned a friend. Resolving himself, he shifted just enough to let his tail slip out from under him. Lanette gasped, looking over her shoulder to watch the appendage rise, but before she could do anything to ward it off, it moved across her back and pushed her down to lie against him.

At the same time, the altaria screeched and reared back, opening her beak enough to let a greenish-yellow light form at the back of her throat. However, she stopped there, waiting for something to happen. She knew she couldn't do anything without hitting her mistress, and her mistress preoccupied herself with staring once again in bewilderment at the creature holding her close – particularly when nothing happened.

"As you can see, if I meant any harm to you, I would have done so already," Bill told her. "Besides..."

Tilting his head towards her, he whispered a password into her ear. She inhaled and pulled away to sit up on him again. He let her, watching her carefully as she stared at him with a startled expression.

"Bill," she whispered.

He nodded once. Lanette's lips parted, but she said nothing to him. Instead, she scrambled to her feet and took a few steps backwards. The crowbar rested at her side, much to Bill's relief. Taking pleasure in the lack of pressure, Bill sat up and kept his eyes on her.

"It's good to see you," he said.

She turned away and began walking back the way she came. Her hand motioned for her dragon to follow her, and with a sweep of cloud-like wings, the altaria closed her beak and fluttered to her mistress's side. Still, Lanette was silent as she swung a leg over her altaria's back.

Bill blinked. That was what he would call an unexpected reaction. He scrambled to his feet and started after her, leaving Ellen and Thom behind and completely lost. Of course, he didn't notice; he devoted all his concentration to the fact that the only person he knew on this island before its quarantine was about to take off.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

Swiftly, she twisted in her seat and blocked his way with her crowbar. He stopped short, staring at the pointed end close to his chest.

"Stay away from me," she growled.

"What? Wait!"

"You have no idea how much trouble you're in right now," she told him. "I've got to go back to the Caravan and notify them of you."

"The Cara-"

Bill darted in front of the altaria and placed his hands on the bird's neck. The dragon squawked indignantly and shook her head, trying to shrug the ixodida's hold off her shoulders. Ignoring this, Bill leaned towards Lanette.

"You're not talking about the band of refugees, are you?" he asked.

"Yes," she snapped. "Now get out of my way."

He shook his head. "Lanette, please. I want the people of Mauville to go with the Caravan."

"And they will."

"You don't understand. The people of Mauville want me to go with them."

Her eyes narrowed. "Out of the question. Get out of my way, Bill."

He transferred his hands to the end of her crowbar and gripped it tightly. "I can help you. Just convince the Caravan to take me with them, and I can take part in protecting the Caravan wherever it goes. I have nowhere else to go anyway; I doubt I would be allowed back to Kanto looking like this."

"How long have you been in Hoenn?"

"Only a few days. Why?"

She huffed. "Allow me to teach you something I doubt you learned in Polaris Institute. You may be able to think like a human, but ixodida have a way of finding one another. If you travel with us, they'll sense you and come to us in droves to see why you're here. In other words, you'll _be_ trouble for us just by existing. Now, for the last time, get out of my way, Bill. I don't want to hurt you."

He let go of her crowbar and let his arms drop to his sides. What she just said slowly sank into his skull. The ixodida could sense him. No matter where he went, they would know where he was. He was smart enough to realize this meant he'd be a danger to the Caravan, but the thought of being left behind to face masses of ixodida scared him, too. Lifting one of his hands, he stared at the claws. He didn't yet know how to fully defend himself, and he needed Lanette's help – or anyone's, for that matter – to understand what he was.

A gust of wind signaled that the altaria had taken off. Looking up, he reached out for Lanette before she or her bird could get far.

"Lanette!" he called.

She pulled on her pokémon's shoulders to coax her to hover. When the dragon stopped, Lanette gazed at her former partner once again.

"What will the Caravan do once they know about me?" he asked.

"If you're lucky, they'll drive you into the wilderness and order you not to follow us."

"And if I'm not lucky?"

For a brief second, Bill saw a flash of a sympathetic look cross her face. A second later, it was gone, and Lanette kicked the sides of her bird. Far below, Bill shivered in response to her glance and watched her fly away.


	16. Fifteen: Storm

**Anima Ex Machina: Fifteen  
A storm is coming.**

When the quarantine came down on Hoenn, the Japanese government didn't count heads. It was too much in a rush, too preoccupied to realize that there were hundreds upon hundreds of people who never got off the island by the time the restrictions on the ferries and planes were announced. The people of Hoenn already knew about the threat of the ixodida, of the red parasites that traveled in waves to consume every pokémon in their path and of the humanoid beasts that slaughtered humans for no apparent reason. Some people even watched it happen with their own eyes. Once news about the alient creatures broke out within the region, the public naturally panicked. Riots erupted in Slateport and Lilycove as citizens became desperate to leave the island as soon as possible. More people died in the rush than in the ixodida attacks, yet the increasing number of disappearances in the heart of Hoenn made the crushing crowds at its port cities preferable to waiting in the wild.

The Japanese government knew about the stampedes, but there was nothing they could do. Each city could only hold so many ferries, the airports could only field so many air crafts, and the military helicopters could only lift so many people out of the region. At the same time, the ixodida sightings steadily increased, and the military feared that they couldn't repel the alien swarms as quickly as they appeared.

In truth, they hadn't thought of the quarantine for this reason. If everything had gone exactly as they did in the months after the news broke out, the government would have simply continued the evacuation until the entire region was uninhabited. Instead, something else occurred that no one could have predicted, something that completely changed the game: the St. Lucia Incident.

Ferries from Slateport City carried Hoenn residents to two places besides interregional transport: Pacifidlog Town and Dewford Town. Besides Mossdeep, Ever Grande, and Sootopolis, those were the largest settlements outside of mainland Hoenn, so they were deemed safe areas by the government – safe havens where the region's citizens who had nowhere else to go could relocate until the military stabilized the mainland. However, only a few months after the evacuation began, one of the trainers, one who had traveled from Fortree after learning that his home had been annihilated, carried with him a seemingly innocuous backpack. Inside, it held the things he had kept with him since he left the wilderness: food, water, his pokémon... and an ixodida parasite.

He wasn't aware that it was there, of course; he couldn't begin to guess when it might have crawled inside. Of course, he would never have time to guess. The parasite consumed his food supply without him knowing, and at the bottom of his pack, it laid eggs.

The ferry, known as the St. Lucia, went down in history the day that single trainer opened his backpack. A sea of parasites erupted from within it, and he was the first to be infected. Thirty-seven other passengers fell victim, and the captain, a small portion of his crew, and several terrified civilians barricaded themselves in the control room. This small band of survivors lasted for two weeks on whatever supplies they shared between them while outside, an ixodida army began forming. The captain kept in contact with the military through the radio, and although he and the others could see part of the National Defense Forces' naval fleet outside their window by the third day, no help for them arrived.

At the end of the second week, as supplies gave out, as several of the survivors descended into insanity, and as the fully-formed ixodida began pounding on the doors, the remaining sane members of the tiny band said their goodbyes and asked the NDF for relief.

Nearly a day later, the St. Lucia took a torpedo to the side of her hull and sank a safe distance from Dewford Town. 400 civilians, twenty crew members, 387 infected, zero survivors. This single sinking was considered the worst maritime disaster in Hoenn's history, and most of the details surrounding it were instantly classified.

After the event, thereafter known as the St. Lucia Incident, the government realized that no ferry could be safe without vigorous security measures. For this reason, the quarantine fell. No one within the region could leave the island without being checked at the militarized Slateport or Lilycove. This meant days of quarantine as units checked every passenger thoroughly. Ferries were strictly organized, and everything going into and out of the region was categorized. There were still hundreds upon hundreds of people stranded in the heart of Hoenn, and the ability to leave was suddenly reserved for the very few.

That's why the Caravan began. In Rustboro, a group of survivors led by the former sailor known as Mr. Briney realized that no one official was about to help the last remnants of the region, so they gathered everything they could. Buses, trucks, cars – all filled with clothes, tents, medical supplies, and people who knew how to use them. Their goal: to collect as many survivors as possible, defend them from the ixodida invasion, and deliver them, if they met government standards, to any of the military bases around Hoenn. Some of them would be carried to safety. Others were assimilated into the Caravan's army to help defend the rapidly expanding mobile settlement.

They found Lanette Chastain not at Fallarbor Town, as she usually was before the quarantine. Rather, she was several miles to the east, closer to Fortree. With the Hoenn League virtually frozen at the height of the evacuation, Lanette's storage system was shut down, and most pokémon were distributed among Japan's other regional networks. Lanette herself was summoned with her sister, Brigette, to a place called Point Zero. Their mission: to investigate the strange pokémon that had appeared around the area.

Unfortunately, the Chastain sisters never made it.

Lanette never spoke about what happened near Fortree during that time, and even months later, she couldn't recall how long she spent in the wilderness. Either way, the Caravan found her dehydrated, half-starved, delirious, alone, and covered in blood. Strangely, she wasn't infected.

It took her a week to recover physically, and once she was physically stable, she regained her sanity slowly but surely. Nonetheless, she never recovered from whatever happened those weeks ago. She was cold, distant, and most of all, intent on eradicating every ixodida she saw. The Caravan accepted her as part of its own military force, and she quickly climbed the loose ranks it developed until she became its leader after Briney died. Within the Caravan, they knew her as their strongest warrior and most brilliant adviser. Whatever she said, the others listened to her every word. Whatever she did, the others followed. They trusted her to protect them, and she never let them down.

That was why, when she landed at the Caravan's camp on the outskirts of Mauville, members of the Caravan immediately took notice of the expression on her face. She strode forward in the usual manner: straight-backed, head held high, a small frown on her lips. Yet, there was something else in her red eyes, a glint of an emotion no one had ever seen from her. Or perhaps it was the fact that her face was just a little paler than usual that tipped people off.

Whatever it was, as soon as she strode towards the center of the camp with Altaria in tow, a young, green-haired man looked up and started forward, his smile fading as he looked carefully at her expression.

"Vito," Lanette said firmly, "it's clean. Spread the word to have everyone pack and move out."

Her companion hesitated. She eyed him with a cold glance.

"Well?" she asked.

"Lanette, you..." Vito tilted his head. "What did you find?"

She bowed her head. Of course, she thought of Bill, the familiar face attached to an alien body. She had been thinking about it since the moment she left him standing on the streets. That was the Bill she had always known, yet he was an ixodida. The rules were strict about his kind.

So, she would just have to deal with him herself. It would be cleaner that way. No fuss.

A hand wrapped around her wrist. She yanked her arm towards her chest and lashed her hand towards the neck of her would-be attacker. Vito instinctively tilted his chin back, allowing Lanette's fingers to brush his skin. The researcher stopped there, relaxing as soon as she realized who had just touched her. Her hand dropped to her side, and she turned her eyes away from the trainer. Vito watched her movements for a few seconds. Then, he moved forward and wrapped his arms around her. She didn't reciprocate, opting instead to leave her arms limp at her sides with her hands clenched into fists.

"Something's wrong in that city, isn't there?" Vito asked.

"Nothing dangerous," Lanette admitted. "There is a small colony of human and pokémon survivors located at the center of the city. The ones I was able to spot look ready to travel. We should have enough room on one of the buses for the majority of them, but the city is otherwise empty. If we need further supplies or transportation, we have a large selection."

"No ixodida?"

"No." Lanette's answer was quick and firm, even though her eyes narrowed a little at the lie.

Vito held her a little closer. "Lanette... you know if you need anything, you can tell me, right?"

Lanette's body went slack just a tiny bit. Her normally stiff and straight posture slouched slightly, and her fists loosened until her fingers dangled at her sides.

"Where is Hope?" she asked.

"Where she always is," Vito told her. "On the school bus. Julie's looking after her."

"Good," Lanette responded. "When we stop in Mauville, I want her to stay there. Have Julie watch her closely."

Vito pulled away from her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "You know she doesn't get off the bus anyway. Why would you need anyone to keep an eye on her?"

"Just make sure it's done," Lanette replied.

She pulled away from Vito, keeping her eyes on the camp in front of her. Her hand rose in a small motion, and Altaria fluttered to her side. Vito lifted one of his own hands, intending on grabbing her shoulder one more time. Instead, Lanette cut him off before he could say a word.

"Now, notify the rest of the Caravan that we're moving," Lanette ordered. "We should arrive at the Mauville Pokémon Center before nightfall so the scavenger party can get to work safely."

Vito lowered his hand. Although he wanted to say something more, instead, his voice uttered two words softly, almost beyond his control.

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

In the middle of a field just north of Slateport City, a black helicopter lifted off and rose quickly into the blue sky, leaving behind a black jeep with two people standing beside it. The wind from its blades made the sea of grass dance violently, but two operatives hardly felt phased. Neither of them moved until the helicopter was well out of sight, when the wind died down into a calm, warm breeze.

The older of the two was the first to pull her eyes away from the sky. She scoffed and turned, the hem of her silver long coat whipping around her legs so hard that the stiff material smacked the white leather of her boots. A brown bag slipped off her shoulder as she opened the door to the passenger side of the jeep and sat down. Her younger companion looked towards her and watched her pull out a black laptop.

"What are you doing?" 009 asked.

"Getting to work," Professor Nettle replied.

She opened the laptop and waited for the screen to flare to life. As soon as it did, it revealed that she already had a program open: a map of Hoenn with a single red dot on its face. There was no other information on the screen save for a set of numbers in the top right-hand corner.

"We need to go to these coordinates," she said.

"Hold on," 009 snapped. "Just what is that, and why do we need to go there? Giovanni ordered us to capture XP-650, not go sightseeing."

Nettle glared at her. "If you would get it through that simple mind of yours to wait, I would be happy to explain."

009 opened the door on the driver's side and slid onto the seat. Slamming the door behind her, she turned and waited for Nettle to say something.

Nettle smirked. "While you were busy attempting to order me around in Polaris Institute, I took the liberty of attaching a small and completely undetectable tracking device to McKenzie during his transformation. No matter where he goes on this island, I'll know exactly where he is so long as the device is still transmitting. And because Giovanni explicitly told us to capture _him_..."

009 reeled back. Her hand slipped under her hat and pulled free the key to the jeep. As she pushed it into the ignition, she couldn't help but smile.

"For once, Professor Nettle, I have to compliment you on your genius. I suppose you have a plan for what to do once we find him?"

"Of course."

Nettle reached into her bag for a second object. 009 looked towards her just in time to be presented with an object the size of a marble. With a click of a button on its face, Nettle expanded it to reveal a purple and silver poké ball. Two pink bubbles protruded out of its violet hemisphere, and a silver M was etched between them.

"You plan to capture him with a _poké ball_?" 009 muttered.

"Not just any ordinary poké ball," Nettle answered. "You wouldn't know what this is, would you? Allow me to enlighten you. The Silph Company has always been a close partner of the Pokémon Symposium. Our finest members have been employees of Silph, and Silph frequently designs tools for Symposium scientists. Several years ago, Silph sent the Symposium's top researchers these: special poké balls meant for only the most powerful pokémon. I've kept it since then to wait for the perfect opportunity to use it. I believe now would be that time."

She reached over to 009 and pulled one of the girl's wrists towards her with one hand. The other placed the ball in 009's palm. Once she was released, 009 pulled the ball close and examined it with scrutinizing eyes.

"Take this," Nettle said. "Your stealth and battling skills will enable you to use it on McKenzie when he least expects it. I would myself, but I doubt he would allow me to come anywhere near him."

009 moved her eyes to her partner. "I still don't get it. What's so special about this ball?"

"That," Nettle replied, "is the Master Ball. It has the ability to capture absolutely any pokémon without fail."

* * *

To the east of Mauville City, the warm breeze characteristic of Hoenn burst into a gust of cold wind. The water in the river that divided Hoenn neatly in half churned, and its blue surface rose into white peaks. Just beneath the waves, a magikarp swam lazily, its blank stare on the waves above it. Because of its own distraction, it didn't see the four carvanha darting out of the dark depths of the river.

The only warning it received was a flash of red and blue just at the edge of its peripheral vision, but by the time it twisted itself to look at its attackers, four pairs of jaws sank their teeth into its sides. It cried out and lashed its tail from side to side in the closest thing to an attack it knew, but in response to the Splash attack, the carvanha simply ripped themselves away from the carp. At once, the magikarp stopped struggling and turned until it floated belly up on the surface of the water. Its gills pumped frantically as its mouth flapped, taking in gulps of water it didn't process. All around it, the river began to turn pinkish red.

Each of the four carvanha swallowed its own mouthful and glanced at the rest of its group. They twitched their tails in preparation for another attack. The fish darted towards the magikarp, jaws open and ready for another bite.

Right before they sank their teeth into their prey, three pairs of claws lashed into the churning water to grab most of the school. The last one stopped just before striking. Its eyes focused on three blurry objects just above the surface as it backed away. Then, it turned and darted into the darkness, leaving both its hunting party and the dying magikarp behind.

Above the water, three white ixodida hovered. Snowy, bird-like wings extended from their backs and flapped at regular intervals to generate bursts of wind. Each gust played with the white feathers covering their bodies and the long white hair that cascaded from their heads. Golden claws on their feet brushed the surface of the water, and the matching set on their fingers clutched the fish in their hands. Their tails, each ending in a blunt tip, wagged happily as they brought their catches to their mouths. The carvanha screeched and lashed as the harpies' lips parted to reveal long, sharp fangs. Then, before the fish could slip away, the bird-women bit down into their prey, fangs sinking deep into flesh.

Almost immediately, the fish fell silent and still.

The harpies ate in peace for awhile, consuming every last scrap of the fish – bones, rough scales, and everything else. After a few minutes, they paused as a new gust of wind blew over them. Their heads turned towards the sky to see another feathered ixodida stare steadily at them. As he watched, his long tail swung beneath him, its arrowhead tip cutting through thin air. Upon spotting him, each of the harpies dropped the remnants of their fish and bowed their heads low in respect.

"I have a task for you three," he said.

Craning his neck, he glanced towards the horizon. The three birds lifted their heads and turned to see the skyline of a city not far away.

"Within that human settlement, there is one of our own," the male told them. "I want the three of you to go there and find him. If he is a member of the Iron Clan, use any means necessary to bring him to me. Is that understood?"

The three harpies swiveled their heads towards him and screeched. Their wings extended, and with a flap, they ascended until they floated above him.

"Good," he said. "Go quickly before we lose him."

All three of them opened their mouths for a second screech as they twisted themselves in mid air. Before long, they shot towards the city, putting as much distance between their superior and themselves as possible.


	17. Sixteen: Closer

**Author's Note:** One month of death-by-everywork later, and the next chapter is finally ready (about a month late). x_x Will respond to comments, just as soon as I'm done not being half-dead. Thanks for your patience, guys!

**Anima Ex Machina: Sixteen  
****Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.**

"You're kidding, right?" Veronica deadpanned.

In the examination room of the pokémon center, the police officer observed one of the sights she hoped she wouldn't have to see. It wasn't death, destruction, or mayhem. It was Ellen Joy helping an ixodida get dressed.

Bill wasn't exactly comfortable with the whole idea himself. For one, it made him realize, much to his embarrassment, that he had been completely naked since he first awoke as an ixodida. While he couldn't argue with covering himself up, realizing that the idea never dawned on him until right then served as a not-too-kind reminder that his body was far from what he would call human.

For another, cloth felt strange against his skin – almost unpleasant. He felt too warm, and although he could no longer feel the texture and softness of fabric, the way it brushed against his armor felt like it was touching a numb limb. His nerves prickled uncomfortably, perhaps because his nervous system knew it should be feeling something but simply couldn't.

For a third, he couldn't get Adam to shut up about it.

_Clothing. Is that what you humans call it?_ Adam muttered bitterly. _Your species must be incredibly vain. Why would you need to cover your bodies? Is there something you all consider repulsive about your form? It is a wonder that any of you breed._

He kept silent, even fixing his jaw to avoid speaking. Craning his neck, he tried to focus on the ceiling while Ellen worked on tightening the leather belt around his waist. The loose material of the gray slacks and the white shirt he wore did wonders to hide his form, but because of his claws, he couldn't do much to put on the disguise himself. He wished he could, not only because he felt embarrassed about having another person dress him but also because it would have given him something else to focus on besides Adam.

_Is it an adaptation technique?_ Adam continued. _I noticed that your human form lacked a pelt. All of your skin was thin and flimsy before I changed it. It may be a wonder that you evolved at all. One would think that your kind would die from something as humiliating as exposure shortly after it decided a pelt was unnecessary for survival. It amuses me that your kind could be so fragile and survive. You would hardly be considered the most intelligent species on this planet alone if you must know, and the more intelligent species are far better equipped to handle this planet's environment._

_Just ignore him,_ Bill chanted in his own mind, but he couldn't help but feel as if something was smiling at him using a mouth filled with too many teeth.

Luckily, Ellen, having finished with the belt, looked around her companion and proceeded to give him just the distraction he needed.

"We should do something about your tail," she said.

"Hmm?" Bill looked over his shoulder and lifted his tail. "That shouldn't be too difficult. What if I tried this?"

He wormed his tail under his shirt and, while taking care to not let the tip shred the material over his torso, wound it around his midsection in tight circles. Eventually, the last segment disappeared under cotton.

"How does that look?" he asked.

"Well..." Ellen smoothed the fabric over his torso. "It's a little bulky, but if we let your shirt hang the way it is, I don't think anyone would notice."

Veronica crossed her arms and sighed. "This is not going to work."

Ellen sent a glare towards her partner. "What makes you so sure? He looks all right to me."

"So, you plan to have him just pretend to be human for the gods know how long?" Veronica moved her hands to her hips. "How is he supposed to hide the fact that he's an ixodida when all he eats is meat? And what about all the fighting? He can't exactly keep pretending to be a human when he's using his hands to slice up another ixodida."

_She is right, you know._

Bill recoiled, not so much at Veronica's words but more because of Adam's tone. The parasite was practically purring inside his head.

_You see, Bill,_ Adam said, _while you can hide as much of our form as you would like, there are things you cannot conceal. Our instincts, for example._

He felt something tingle in his head. His mouth filled with a coppery taste, and he shivered with a sudden pang of hunger. All around him, the air smelled sweet. He knew it was Chansey's scent, but right then, he felt like he wanted to follow it, rip her throat out, and taste the soft flesh beneath her pink fur. A second later, he realized how easily that thought floated into his mind, and clearing his throat, he tried his best to dispel it.

With a quick sweep of his hands, Bill grabbed a pair of leather boots that sat waiting for him beside the examination table. He jammed his feet into them, piercing the paper stuffed into their toes with his claws. The brown leather would have gone up to mid-calf on his human self; now, it braced his heel. Stooping down, he slowly and carefully grasped the laces to tie his boots. His concentration shifted from Adam to his task, and with a little too much enthusiasm, he focused on forcing himself to learn how to use his claws for delicate actions. This, he thought, would be the last time he would stand idly and let someone dress him.

Above him, Ellen and Veronica's argument continued.

"It's not going to be forever," Ellen replied. "Once we can convince the Caravan that Bill has a good heart and wouldn't hurt anyone traveling with us, he won't have to hide anymore."

"And what about that girl? The one you said recognized him?"

Bill stopped where he was, his fingers halfway done with tying his boots. Lanette. He couldn't begin to imagine what might have happened to her. In his mind, he could envision the way she was before the quarantine. She wasn't exactly what he would call happy-go-lucky back then, but it was very rare for him to see her without some kind of expression on her face. A smile. A shadow of nervousness. A glint of determination. Something that made her look human.

The Lanette he met recently was cold. Expressionless. Robotic. He could recognize the face anywhere, but the spark that had been there – the part of her that he considered his best friend – was nowhere to be seen. Yet he wanted so much to believe she was still somewhere in there.

"Well, Nurse Joy?" Veronica asked.

"Okay, I don't know," Ellen replied, "but we'll figure something out. Bill, isn't she a friend of yours?"

Finishing with the boots, Bill kept his eyes on the floor. "Yes."

"Then, what's there to worry about? I'm sure she'll be happy to help us," Ellen told Veronica. "So long as Bill is covered up and isn't causing any trouble, why should any of us worry?"

"Because it's a stupid idea," Veronica snapped. "Look at him! No one's going to believe that!"

_Although I would hate to admit to agreeing with a human, she has a point,_ Adam drawled. _Bill, I feel ridiculous wearing human clothing. Take it off._

Doing his best to ignore the parasite, Bill stood. He was just in time for Thom to burst into the room with a bundle in his arms.

"Sorry I'm late!" the boy chirped. "Is he ready yet? Lemme see!"

Veronica rolled her eyes and leaned against the examination table. At the same time, Thom leaned forward and squinted, prompting Bill to reel back slightly.

"Hey!" Thom said. "Not too shabby! This'll work! Here, I've even got a few things to finish it off!"

Before Bill could protest, Thom pulled a puffy, gray hat out of the bundle and jammed it on top of the ixodida's head to cover his horns. The second thing that went on was a red scarf flung around his neck. Finally, Thom shoved a pair of black leather gloves into Bill's hands.

"Here, put these on. Let's see how they look!"

Bill blinked in response. Then, carefully, he slipped his hands into the gloves and let his arms fall at his sides. Ellen stepped beside Thom and gazed at the finished outfit as Thom tapped his chin with a finger.

"Y'know, I think everyone out there's a genius. They really outdid themselves this time, didn't they?" Thom said.

Ellen smiled. "It's for a good cause. But they did a great job finding all of this. Bill, you should see yourself before we leave. It's amazing how a few pieces of clothing can make you look so human!"

Bill adjusted his scarf and replied softly, "Do you really think so?"

"Oh yeah. We're not just saying that to be nice. You'll be fine," Thom said. "What d'you think, Officer Jenny?"

For a few moments, she was silent. Then, she huffed and snapped a glare at all three of them.

"And what will the Caravan say when they find out we've been harboring an ixodida?" she snapped.

Right away, Bill felt awkward as Lanette's words echoed through his mind. The ixodida could hunt him down wherever he was. That he understood. What he never thought about was the idea that he would make things even more complicated for the survivors. Would anyone try to help the people of Mauville if anyone found out they were trying to protect him?

"Oh!" Thom suddenly quipped. "That reminds me. The Caravan's already outside."

Veronica turned her full attention to Thom. "What?"

He pointed a thumb towards the door. "Oh yeah. Arrived here about ten minutes ago. That red-headed girl we told you about said she's looking for the authorities here."

"Why didn't you tell me this first?"

"I forgot."

"_Shit!_"

Veronica balled her hands into fists and gritted her teeth. Then, she exhaled and relaxed her shoulders.

"Y'know," Thom said, "you've gotta relax now and then, officer. Too much stress'll cause a heart attack."

"If I wasn't a cop, Wattson...!"

Without another word, Veronica stormed out of the room. Thom stammered out the beginning of a question before quickly following her. The only two who were left were Ellen and Bill. At that point, the nurse turned to her charge and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't let her get to you," she said. "Everything will be fine. We'll make sure of it. You saved us, after all. We can't just abandon you after that."

He looked into her eyes and nodded. "Thank you, Nurse Joy. This means a lot to me."

Her smile returned as she pulled away and started for the door. "Coming?"

"No, not yet. If it's all right, I'd like to make sure I'm ready to go out there."

Looking over her shoulder at him, she replied, "Of course. Take your time, Bill. The Caravan shouldn't be leaving today."

With that, she glided through the doorway, leaving Bill in a completely empty room. As soon as she was gone, Bill raised his hands and stared at the gloves. He flexed the fingers experimentally and listened to the creak of the hide.

Then, he lost feeling in his left hand.

Grabbing his wrist with his free hand, he tried to keep his arm from moving as it strained to move by itself.

"Adam!" Bill hissed. "What are you doing?"

_You were ignoring me,_ it answered. _Therefore, I will take action myself._

The left hand yanked the glove off the right and started tugging on the scarf. Bill gagged and used the hand he could still control to grasp his rogue fingers.

"Isn't this a little petty?" he coughed.

In a flash, he felt numb all over as his body acted on its own. It took off the scarf and gradually slipped its hand out of the other glove.

"Not at all," Adam said with his mouth. "Listen, Bill, we need to talk about this Caravan. About that girl, Lanette."

Shuddering, Bill felt his consciousness slip forward, and his body once again started responding to his own will.

"I'd listen to you, even if you didn't take such drastic measures!" Bill objected.

"Somehow, I doubt that. You seem distracted."

Bill shook his head. "Will you stop that? I thought the whole point of making me the dominant mind was because you didn't want to have control!"

"Oh, Bill, you can be entirely too naïve sometimes. I am what you would call a parasite. Of course I would want control over your body. The problem is I lack the ability to do so for extended periods of time." Adam paused. "Does this disturb you that much?"

Grimacing, Bill responded, "Of course it does! Why wouldn't I be disturbed by the fact that I don't even have the free will to move on my own all the time?"

_It got your attention, did it not?_

Sighing, Bill turned and placed his hands on the examination table. He closed his eyes and bowed his head.

"All right, Adam," he murmured. "I'll listen to you. Just... don't do that anymore, okay?"

_Very well._

Bill snatched the gloves and scarf again. He leaned against the examination table and began to slip the gloves on. Suddenly, his tail unwound from his waist and yanked itself from between the rest of his body and the table behind him. Before Bill could correct his balance, he smacked his back against padding and stumbled to the floor. The arrowhead tip flashed beside him, and he glared at it.

"What did I just say?" he snapped.

_I find you amusing. Besides, you should learn to stop thinking of this as your body when it is ours. After all, you did not have a tail. This is completely mine._

Bill growled and looked away. He didn't want to watch something that he knew was attached to him act without his consent, let alone think about Adam's point with any depth.

"You were saying something about the Caravan and Lanette?" he asked.

Adam hesitated, and the arrowhead tipped downward. _Bill, I realize this may be difficult for you, but if we are to succeed in our mission, then we must learn to work together. You must trust my judgment and listen to me when I have something important to say._

"What is this all ab-"

Bill turned his head sharply, only to come face to face with the point of his tail. He stopped short, watching the tip carefully as it came close to his face. There, it hovered, tilting and bobbing with Adam's every word.

_I sense that you care deeply about this Lanette,_ Adam said.

"She... she's my colleague," Bill answered quietly. "That's all."

_Is it? Bill... I have studied you closely since I chose to accept you as my host. I have given you incredible power. That combined with your intelligence should make you unstoppable. But do you know what your weakness is? What keeps you from becoming a true warrior? Your emotions. You let your heart judge for you. You hesitate to hurt others because you think too much about the consequences. You avoid trusting those who may be your greatest allies, and you trust those who may be your greatest enemies._

Bill tensed. "What are you saying?"

_I am saying that I do not trust Lanette, and neither should you._

At once, Bill scrambled to his feet. His tail lashed upwards, wrapping it around his arms and torso tightly. Trapped, he stared downward at the arrowhead.

"Are you saying I shouldn't trust my closest friend?" he demanded. "She hasn't lied to me before!"

_She is not the same as she was before my kind came. Neither are you. You cannot deny that._

Bill squirmed his arms out of Adam's grip and yanked his shirt up and over his tail.

"I appreciate your concern, Adam, but I'll be fine. I can at least tell when I'm being tricked."

He felt his tail tighten around his torso, but as he strode forward, he did his best to ignore it.

_As your partner, I cannot force you to change your mind,_ Adam replied, _but I do hope for our sake that you are right about her._

His tail went limp, and for the first time in the past several minutes, Bill could feel it again. Stopping at the door, he adjusted his scarf while he wound his tail around his waist. He paused, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

"We'll be fine," he whispered. "There's nothing to worry about."

Then, he stepped out into the hallway and walked down the short corridor to the common area. It struck him as odd that even then, he couldn't hear any voices. Normally, there would be people talking in the pokémon center's common area, and he expected there to be even more activity with the added population of the Caravan. While he heard the muffled sounds of something outside, the common room itself was quiet.

As soon as he arrived, it didn't take him long to discover why. The entire place was empty. No one was at the green videophones lining the wall. All of the tables were bare and the seats unoccupied in the dining area. In the lounge clustered in the opposite corner of the room, the plush couches that normally were crowded with people were almost empty right then.

Almost empty.

Veronica leaned against one of the chairs with a glass of amber liquid in her hand. Even from several feet away, Bill caught the bitter scent of alcohol, and this was part of the reason why he instinctively bristled. The other reason was sitting on the couch Veronica leaned against. Lanette took one last sip of her own beverage – coffee, if Bill's nose was correct for a second time – before she placed her cup on the table. At first, she didn't say a word, opting instead on fixing her ruby-red eyes on her colleague.

"Lanette," Bill murmured. "I..."

He stopped, remembering the point of his disguise. Pressing his lips together, he pulled down on the hat's brim to hide his eyes. Lanette narrowed hers at him.

"The Caravan reached a decision," she said.

Bill looked up. "What... what did they decide?"

Lanette stood. She brushed past Veronica and started for the door. The officer downed the rest of the contents in her glass before placing it on the table. Immediately afterwards, she fell into step behind the red-head.

"A test," Lanette said. "Follow us, if you please. We don't have much time to administer it."

Bill took a step forward and froze where he was. It wasn't his doing.

_I sense something wrong here, Bill. Be on guard._

"I know," Bill whispered harshly.

"What was that?" Veronica asked.

Shaking his head, Bill smiled and walked after them. "Nothing."

Lanette gave the ixodida a strange look before turning back to the door. Inside his head, Bill could hear Adam's growl; once again, he tried to ignore it.

Later on, he would wish he hadn't.

* * *

Adam was right about one thing: Bill's main weakness was the fact that he was afraid of hurting anyone. But Bill already knew this. He knew before he was a researcher, back when he was still training pokémon. To be specific, he was terrible at battling even then. At first, it was just inexperience, a lack of understanding as to how battles worked combined with a stubborn refusal to trust his pokémon. After a while, inexperience turned into compassion. As soon as he began seeing his pokémon as friends, he became reluctant to exert real effort into winning a battle. Of course, he knew pokémon were never seriously injured by matches, but every time he walked onto a battlefield and tried to order his pokémon to do something, he would hesitate, thinking about all the things that could go wrong and land a pokémon in Nurse Joy's hands for more than just a band-aid and a potion.

As a result, Bill never earned a single badge. In fact, after he realized what his problem was, he avoided gyms as a general rule. They made him uneasy with their wide, open battlefields that invariably struck him as being suspiciously pristine and well-kept for sites of long, arduous matches. Whenever he looked at one, he didn't see a smooth surface with neatly painted white lines, and he didn't imagine one flashy attack after another in an epic struggle between two equal forces. He saw the craters, trenches, and burn marks with his pokémon in the center of each one, just as they were at the end of the last few gym battles he ever bothered to fight. He saw the thousands of ways a pokémon could be left with broken bones, psychological trauma, and the gods knew what else.

Naturally, Bill was fully aware that it was ironic that he supported trainers, despite what he thought of gyms. It was just that the thought of going back to being a trainer left an unpleasant feeling in his chest.

In short, when Lanette and Veronica led him into Mauville Gym, he was wary, not because of what Adam had told him about Lanette but instead because he just didn't like gyms.

At the edge of the battlefield, Lanette started up a metal ladder leading to a catwalk. Veronica stepped beside it and motioned for Bill to follow the Caravan's leader. He hesitated, waiting for Lanette to reach the top before climbing up himself. Inside, he felt Adam stir, and he sensed that the ixodida was watching every move he was making. When he reached the top, he shut his eyes briefly, as if the act would drive the parasite out of his head. In the darkness, he heard Lanette's footsteps across the steel walkway. They stopped after a few seconds.

"Come," she said.

Opening his eyes, he turned and followed her in a trot until he stood behind her. Keeping her back towards him, she pulled a poké ball from one of the pouches on her belt and released a pokémon in front of her. The gloom trilled and skirted around his master until he stood, squinted eyes staring up at the other pokémon. Bill shifted uncomfortably on his feet, staring first at it and then at Lanette. Behind him, he could hear Veronica coming up the ladder.

"Er... Lanette?" he asked softly. "What... what kind of test are we performing?"

There was a cold look in her eyes, and finally, Bill realized something was terribly wrong.

"Lanette," he muttered. "You know it's me, right? You know me. I'm not a threat to you. I'm... we're friends, aren't we? We... we designed the system together."

She blinked and shifted her gaze to a point behind him. "The Caravan has reached a decision. Officer. Now."

Veronica grabbed Bill's wrist. He gasped and tried to turn to face her, and in the quick second of distraction, she snapped a set of handcuffs around his arm and part of the rail along the catwalk. Instinctively, Bill grasped his bound wrist and tried to wrench it away from the metal bar, but the handcuffs held fast. Lanette took the time to skirt past him, her gloom trotting behind her. Veronica, her job complete, turned and walked towards the ladder silently.

"Wait!" Bill said. "Wait! What's going on?"

After putting several feet between herself and Bill, Lanette turned and continued, "Ixodida, on behalf of the Caravan, I hereby sentence you to exile for the crimes your species have committed against humanity."

"Exile? Crimes? Lanette, you can't mean that you think I had anything to-"

"The Caravan will be leaving Mauville City this afternoon."

"Lanette, please, just listen to me!"

"You are forbidden to leave this gym until we've departed, and if you attempt to follow us, we will terminate you on sight."

Bill hesitated, his body trembling. Terminated? Exiled? He kept his eyes on his partner, his mouth slightly open. Right then, he began to realize just how different this woman was from the Lanette he knew.

"Lanette," he murmured. "I..." His wrist shook, rattling the handcuffs against the rail. Glancing down at them, he let his next few words tumble from his lips. "I understand. May I at least have the key to set myself free once you're gone?"

She turned away from him. He watched her from the corner of his eye, and in his chest, a stabbing pain hit his heart.

"No," she replied. "Gloom, Sleep Powder."

The weed pokémon tilted his head towards Bill, and from the bulbous flower on his head, a cloud of blue spores burst and swirled towards the ixodida. Bill made no effort to dodge, instead inhaling the powder as it engulfed him. At once, his vision began to get hazy, and his body felt weak. He dropped to one knee with a bang while he turned his head at last to watch Lanette recall her gloom and move towards him again. Surprised by this action, Bill struggled to keep his eyes open as she knelt in front of him and placed a hand on the side of his face. Her skin felt inordinately cold.

"Your face still looks the same as it did the last time we saw each other," she said. "I wish I could help you, Bill, but I can't give you a merciful death. Please forgive me."

"Lanette..." Bill whispered. His voice was getting fainter and fainter as his head began to drop. "Aren't we friends?"

The expression on her face darkened, and she let him go. "All ixodida are monsters. If you aren't one now, you will be one soon. I can only hope that parasite has enough sense to die with you."

Bill tried to shake his head, but by then, his body could only manage slight motions. "No. Don't be... don't be confused. Cover... book... not the same... I..."

The last thing he saw was Lanette standing and the blurry, brown blobs that were her boots moving away from him. After that, Bill crumpled to the floor of the catwalk, his eyes shutting at last.

In the darkness of his mind, he heard Adam's voice.

_What did I tell you, Bill?_


End file.
